
COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 



JOHN FERGUSON 



BY THE SAME AUTHOR 

NOVELS 
MRS. MARTIN'S MAN. 
ALICE AND A FAMILY. 
CHANGING WINDS. 
THE FOOLISH LOVERS. 

SHORT STORIES 
EIGHT O'CLOCK AND OTHER STUDIES. 

PLAYS 
FOUR IRISH PLAYS 
JOHN FERGUSON 



JOHN FERGUSON 

A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS 



BY 

ST. JOHN G. ERVINE 



NEW EDITION 

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY THE 
AUTHOR 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

1920 

All rights reserved 



i^1^^? 



1i^' 



3^ 



Copyright, 1915, and 1920 
By ST. JOHN G. ERVINB 



New Edition, Match, 1920 



MAY 121320 



©CU566935 






TO 

THE MEMORY OF MY GRANDMOTHER 

MARGARET GREER 



PREFACE 

The issue of a new edition of John Ferguson gives me 
an opportunity to do something that I have long wished 
to do: publicly to thank the actors and actresses who per- 
formed the play at the Garrick and Fulton Theatres in 
New York from May until October, 1919. Circumstances 
prevented me from witnessing the performance, but the 
praise of my friends, English and American, who saw it 
convinced me that it must have been remarkably good; 
and, indeed, after seeing the production of Tolstoy's 
" The Power of Darkness " at the Garrick Theatre in Jan- 
uary of this year, I feel certain that all of the plays per- 
formed by the Theatre Guild of New York will be well 
acted and beautifully produced. I am pleased to think 
that I have had a share in helping to establish a gallant 
enterprise, and I gladly subscribe myself the debtor and 
grateful friend of the good servants of art who belong to 
the Guild. 

The peculiar success of this play in America ... a 
tragic piece of foreign origin produced at an unfashion- 
able theatre by an unfashionable company . . . seems to 
have upset many established beliefs about the kind of play 
the public wants. There is a curious faith held by the- 
atrical managers that the more empty a play is, the better 
will the generality of audiences like it, and large sums of 
money are expended annually by these managers in the 

vii 



viii Preface 

production of puerile plays in the hope that one of them 
will be sufficiently silly to make the fortune of its pro- 
ducer. It is not my business to teach the theatre-man- 
ager his business, but I sometimes wonder whether his 
theory would be supported by a study of theatrical 
balance-sheets. We are often told of the great sums of 
money made out of this or that drivelling revue, but are 
told singularly little of the bankruptcies that have also 
been caused by drivelling revues. I imagine that if an 
accurate financial statement covering the history of the 
theatre either in America or in England were prepared, 
it would be found that the amount of money irretrievably 
lost on " popular " pieces would be far in excess of the 
amount lost on " unpopular " pieces, having regard to the 
capital invested in each; and I should not be astonished to 
discover from such a balance-sheet that the " high-brow " 
drama had more or less paid its way while the " low- 
brow " or " no-brow-at-all " drama had not done so. 
But these are matters of opinion — there are no statistics 
available on which to found arguments — and I do 
not doubt that the commercial theatre-manager who 
reads these words ... if he troubles to read them at all 
. . . will at this point become convulsed with laughter. 
Nothing but bankruptcy and the hell that has been spe- 
cially prepared for those who spend their lives in debasing 
the public taste ... a hell in which, for all eternity, they 
will be compelled to witness their own theatrical enter- 
tainments . . . will convince them that this is no laugh- 
ing matter. 

As for me, I am content. My belief that any sincerely- 
written play, however gloomy it may be, will gain the sup- 
port of the general public, provided that it does not dis- 



Preface ix 

gust them with their kind and bears a clear and 
indisputable relationship to human life, is supported by 
my experience of the reception given in America to John 
Ferguson. I have no illusions about my play. I do not 
regard it as a v^rork of genius nor do I imagine that I am 
the greatest of all dramatists, living or dead. There are 
many flaws in this play, and I sometimes wish that I 
were again a dramatic critic so that I might point them 
out. But it has at least this merit, that it is an honest 
and, I hope, skilful attempt to put human beings upon 
the stage as human beings, and not as stuffed dummies 
hired from a theatrical costumer. I define a bad drama- 
tist as a man who goes into the theatre and never comes 
out again; and I define a good dramatist as a man who 
is constantly checking the creatures of his imagination 
with the creatures who live around him. Imagination, 
unchecked by experience, becomes violence or sentimen- 
tality, and the vn-iter who does not frequently renew his 
contacts with human beings is in desperate danger of sub- 
stituting rhetoric for speech and opinions for feelings; 
and the end of such men is written in oblivion. 

John Ferguson is a tragic play, but I think I may 
claim that it is not a depressing play. It does not dis- 
gust with humanity those who read it or see it performed. 
An audience should leave a theatre, after seeing a tragedy, 
in a state of pride . . . proud that they are human and 
of the same species as the tragic figures; and it is inter- 
esting to find that tragedy has been the main fore of the 
Heroic Ages. We think of Greece more as the home of 
Euripides than of the home of Aristophanes, and we 
think of Elizabethan England as the home of the Shake- 



X Preface 

speare who wrote Hamlet and Lear and Romeo and JuUet 
rather than the home of the Shakespeare who wrote As 
You Like It and Twelfth Night and The Merry Wives of 
Windsor. The most certain of all the signs of decadence 
in a nation is the fact that it cannot witness the per- 
formance of tragedy but must ever be titillated by comic 
entertainments. My experience as a soldier showed me 
that men whose lives were passed in danger were less 
easily satisfied by trivial performances than were the 
civilians living in comfort and security. Home on leave 
from France, I saw expyensively-mounted entertainments 
in London theatres, immensely satisfying to civilians, 
which, had they been produced by a Concert Party at the 
Front, would have caused the officers in charge to be 
courtmartialed. Soldiers got very little pleasure from 
these things, to which they were taken by their civilian 
feminine relatives, and I have often heard officers in 
France, newly back from leave, answer, when asked what 
sort of plays were to be seen in town, "Oh, the usual 
damned rot! " And in time, all these puerile revues and 
cheap plays became known among soldiers as civilian 
stuff. Shakespeare and Bernard Shaw, driven out of the 
commercial theatre during the war, found a home in the 
soldiers' theatres in France; and it is only since the Armis- 
tice and the demobilization of the fighting men that de- 
cent drama has contrived to get back to the English stage. 
Mr. John Drinkwater's noble play, Abraham Lincoln, 
Rostand's Cyrano de Bergerac, Shakespeare's Twelfth 
Night and The Merchant of Venice and Julius Ccesar, 
Sheridan's The School for Scandal, Mr. Lennox Robin- 
son's The Lost Leader, Mr. Shaw's Arms and the Man, 
and lastly, but most remarkably of all, The Trojan 



Preface xi 

Women of Euripides have all drawn large and enthusi- 
astic audiences to the theatre in London, since the sign- 
ing of the Armistice, and in spite of heat waves and rail- 
way strikes, at a time when " popular " pieces were failing 
to pay the cost of their advertisements. The Trojan 
Women was actually performed with success in a London 
music-hall ! 

I am not a prophet and I cannot interpret signs; but 
surely I am not over-optimistic in believing that there is 
a public which will support intelligent and sincere drama 
and is not unwilling to see the work of the master - 
dramatist decently done. The fact that John Ferguson 
was able to draw large audiences for six months, includ- 
ing the period of the hot weather and the Actors' Strike, 
indicates, does it not, that there are many people in New 
York who will pay to see such plays as mine? And will 
not these people pay to see much better plays than mine? 
I think they will. I think that the commercial manager 
does an injustice to the play-going public when he as- 
sumes that nothing is too silly or vulgar for them; and 
the wish of my life is that the success of my play in 
America will induce the commercial managers to give the 
American people a chance to see performed in a public 
theatre that vital, native drama which is, I am quite cer- 
tain, being produced somewhere in this great continent. 
I like to think that a young man, disregarding discour- 
agements, is writing American plays ... in some remote 
village, perhaps . . . that will reveal his country not only 
to his countrymen but to the world with that degree of 
intimacy and understanding that I find in the books of 
Mr. Winston Churchill, " O. Henry," Mrs. Edith 
Wharton and Mr. Ernest Poole. There must be in Amer- 



Xll 



Preface 



ica, many dramatists who can write plays that are on the 
level of Mr. Poole's great novel, The Harbor. Why will 
the commercial manager not let these dramatists prove that 
they exist and have the power and the skill to do what 
Vaughn Moody did in The Great Divide, what the nov- 
elists I have named have done in fiction. People tell 
me that the reception given to John Ferguson has caused 
the commercial manager to re-consider his theory, and 
even as I write, I hear the praises of Mr. Eugene O'Neill's 
play, Beyond the Horizon. If I could feel that I had 
cleared the way for that young American dramatist whom 
I imagine in a remote village or in some college hall 
striving to express himself greatly in drama, I should 
feel proud and happy, and my play would have a merit 
in my mind surpassing any other merit it may possess. 

St. John Ervine. 
Chicago, February 7, 1920. 



CHARACTERS 

John Ferguson, a farmer. 

Sarah Ferguson, his wife. 

Andrew Ferguson, his son. 

Hannah Ferguson, his daughter. 

James Caesar, a grocer. 

Henry Witherow, a farmer and miller. 

" Clutie " John Magrath, a beggar. 

Sam Mawhinney, a postman. 

Sergeant Kernaghan, R.I.C. 

Two Constables. 

A Crowd of Men and Women, Boys and Girls. 

The Scene is laid in the kitchen of a farm-house in County 
Down. 

The Time is in the late summer of the year 188-. 

" Clutie " is a slang expression meaning " left-handed." 

There is an interval of an hour between the First and Second 
Acts; of a night between the Second and Third; and of a fortnight 
between the Third and Fourth. 



John Ferguson was performed for the first time in America 
at the Garrick Theatre, New York, by the Theatre Guild, on 
May I2th, 1919. It was produced by Mr. Augustin Duncan 
with the following cast: 

John Ferguson Augustin Duncan 

Sarah Ferguson Helen Westley 

Andrew Ferguson Rollo Peters 

Hannah Ferguson Helen Freeman 

James C^sar Dudley Digges 

" Clutie " John Magrath Henry Herbert 

Henry Witherow Gordon Burby 

Sergeant Kernaghan Michael Carr 

Sam Mawhinney Walter Geer 



ACT I 

It is the afternoon of a warm day in the late summer of the 
year 188-, and soft sunlight enters the kitchen of 
John Ferguson's farm through the windows and the 
open door. The kitchen is comfortably furnished, 
although the Fergusons are no longer prosperous, for 
Mrs. Ferguson, who is now sitting by the door, 
mending socks, takes great pride in maintaining the 
appearance of fortune. She is a short, stout, healthy 
woman, pleasant and agreeable even when she is as 
harassed as she now is, and her mind is moulded in 
the kindliness of an Ulster woman. She is not a very 
intelligent woman, and so her sympathies are some- 
times flattened by her lack of perception, but, within 
her limitations, she is an excellent wife and a very 
good mother. 

Her husband, John Ferguson, is sitting in front 
of the turf fire, with a rug wrapped round his legs. 
He is reading a large Bible to himself, and his lips 
move as if he were silently pronouncing each word to 
himself. He is an elderly, tired, delicate-looking 
man, and his dark beard is turning grey. His eyes 
are set deeply in his head, and they are full of a dark, 
glowing colour. His voice is slow but very firm, al- 
though his words are gentle. He looks like a por- 
trait of Moses — not that Moses who led the Israelites 
out of Egypt and was a great captain of hosts, but the 
7 



8 John Ferguson 

Moses who surveyed the Promised Land from Mount 
Neho in the Plains of Moab. 

The furniture of the kitchen is good and substan^ 
tial, and of the sort that one sees in a decent home- 
stead. The door leading to the loaning (" loanie ") 
or lane in front of the house is in the wall at the back 
of the scene. A person entering the kitchen from the 
" loanie " would have a large window on his right 
hand in the same wall as the door, and a staircase on 
his left hand. Beyond the staircase, near the front of 
the scene, is a door leading to other rooms and also to 
the scullery and back of the farm. The fireplace is 
in the wall opposite that in which the staircase is set. 
Under the window is a large sofa. A dresser is set 
between the foot of the staircase and the door leading 
to the yard. A large table sits in the centre of the 
room. John Ferguson's chair now stands against 
one end of this table, so that he can place his Bible 
on it easily when he is tired of holding it. The orna- 
ments are those customary in such a house. Over 
the fireplace a gun is suspended. 

Sarah Ferguson. I wonder where Hannah is. I 
haven't seen her for an hour past. 

John Ferguson {without looking up). She's mebbe in 
the fields with Andrew. Listen to this, Sarah! {He 
raises his voice as he reads from the thirtieth of the Psalms 
of David.) " I will extol thee, O Lord; for thou hast 
lifted me up, and hast not made my foes to rejoice over me. 
O Lord, my God, I cried unto thee, and thou hast healed 
me. O Lord, thou hast brought up my soul from the 
grave : thou hast kept me ali^f , that I should not go down 



John Ferguson 9 

into the pit. Sing unto the Lord, O ye saints of his, and 
give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness. {He em- 
phasises what follows.) For his anger endureth but a 
moment; in his favour is life: weeping may endure for a 
night, but joy cometh in the morning." {He turns to his 
wife. ) Do you hear that, Sarah ? There's great comfort 
for you ! 

Sarah Ferguson. Well, indeed, I hope it will, for we 
have need of joy in tliis house. We've bore enough 
trouble. Here's the farm mortgaged up to the hilt, and 
you sick and not able to do no work this long while, and 
Henry Witherow bothering you for the money you owe 
him! . . . 

John Ferguson {holding up the Bible so that she can 
see it). " Weeping may endure for a night," Sarah, " but 
joy cometh in the morning." Them's grand words! 
Don't be complaining now, for sure God never deserts His 
own people. We have His word for that, Sarah. We're 
tried a while, and then we're given our reward. 

Sarah Ferguson. Well, we've earned ours anyway! 
It's a great pity Andrew's such a poor hand on the farm. 

John Ferguson. The lad was never meant for the 
land, Sarah. You know rightly I dedicated him to the 
ministry the day he was bom. It was a sore blow to the 
lad when I told him it couldn't be managed, but it was a 
sorer blow to me. 

Sarah Ferguson. Ay, indeed, it was, John. You were 
always quaren set on Andrew. 

John Ferguson {proudly). He's my son! I have 
great hopes of Andrew. 

Sarah Ferguson. Well, well, you would have done 
better, mebbe, to let him go on with his learning, for he's 



10 John Ferguson 

no use at all on the farm. I hope to my goodness his uncle 
Andrew'll send the money to pay the mortgage. It's 
quare him not writing this long while. 

John Ferguson. He's mebbe had bother. He'll write 
if he has the money by him. You may be sure of that. 

Sarah Ferguson. He never was much of a one for giv- 
ing anything away, your brother Andrew, and mebbe he'll 
disappoint you the same as he's disappointed many an- 
other person. 

John Ferguson. I know he's near with money, but all 
the same I think he'll be willing to lend me the price of the 
mortgage. Him and me was bom in this house, and we 
played here together as wee lads. Our da was born here 
too, and his da before him. Andrew couldn't let the farm 
go out of the family after all them generations. 

Sarah Ferguson. I trust, indeed, he'll not, but it's a 
quare poor look-out when you think he's never answered 
your letters to him this long time, and him knowing'-well 
you were sick and helpless. Dear knows what'll become 
of us all if he doesn't send the money! Henry Witherow's 
a hard man, John, and he'll not be willing to wait long. 
{She rises and looks out of the door.) Here's Hannah 
now! I wonder is the mail in yet! 

John Ferguson. We'll know in a wee while. {He 
takes up the Bible again and resumes his reading.) 

[Hannah Ferguson, a beautiful girl of 
twenty, enters the kitchen from the 
" loanie." Her thick black hair is un- 
covered. 

.Sarah Ferguson. Is the mail in yet? 

Hannah Ferguson {wearily). The long-car only went 
by a minute or two ago. I met " Clutie " John at the end 



John Ferguson ii 

of the loanie, and he said the mail would be late the day. 
{She goes to the window-seat and sits downs.) It's like 
Sam Mawhinney to be late the time we want him to be 
early. 

John Ferguson (with gentle rebuke in his voice). 
Hannah, child! You don't know what trouble the man 
may have had. It might not be his fault the mail's late. 
Sometimes there's a storm at sea, and that keeps the boats 
back. Mebbe the train was delayed. Many's a thing 
might have happened. You shouldn't be blaming Sam for 
what's mebbe not his fault. 

Hannah Ferguson (going to her father, and putting 
her arms round his neck). Da, dear, aren't you the quare 
one for making excuses for people ! 

Sarah Ferguson. Well, sure, a lot of them needs it. 

[She has resumed her seat by the door and is 
again busy with her work of mending 
socks. 

Hannah Ferguson. How're you now, da? Are you 
better nor you were a while ago? 

John Ferguson (cheerfully). Ah, boys-a-boys, Han- 
nah, what did you mind me of it for? I was near forget- 
ting I was sick at all. That shows I'm better in myself, 
doesn't it now? 

Hannah Ferguson (looking anxiously at him). You're 
not letting on, are you, da ? 

Sarah Ferguson. Letting on, indeed! Did you ever 
know your da to let on about anything? 

John Ferguson. Indeed, now, and I let on many's a 
time! There's whiles, when I'm sitting here before the 
fire, or mebbe there in front of the door when the days is 
warm, I pretend to myself I'm better again and can go out 



12 John Ferguson 

and do a day's work in the fields with any man. (His 
voice drops into complaint. ) I 'haven't been in the fields 
this long time. 

Sarah Ferguson {sharply). Now, don't be going and 
making yourself unhappy, 'John! 

John Ferguson. No, woman, I .won't. But it's hard 
for a man to be sitting here with a rug wrapped round his 
legs, and him not able to do a hand's turn for his wife and 
family. 

Hannah Ferguson {fondling him). Ah, da, dear! 

John Ferguson {complaint now controlling his voice). 
And me the man that was always active ! There wasn't a 
one in the place could beat me at the reaping, not one. . . . 
{He remembers the consolations of his faith, although his 
voice falters as he speaks the next sentence.) But it's the 
will of God! {He pauses for a moment, and then his 
mind wanders again to his illness.) Sometimes, when I 
hear the men in the fields, cutting the com and gathering 
the harvest, and them shouting to one another and laugh- 
ing hearty together, I near cry. Me not able to go out and 
help them to bring in the harvest . . . tied here like a wee 
child! . . . 

Hannah Ferguson {tearfully). Da, da, don't go on 
that way! 

Sarah Ferguson {impatiently). Ah, quit, the two of 
you! Hannah, I'm surprised at you coming in and upset- 
ting your da, and him keeping his heart up all day ! 

Hannah Ferguson. I didn't mean to bother you, da. 

John Ferguson (patting her hair). No, daughter, you 
didn't. I know that rightly. (Stirring himself and 
speaking more briskly.) Ah, well! "Weeping may en- 



John Ferguson 13 

dure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." God 
always has a word to comfort you when your heart's down. 
Mebbe there's a letter in Sam Mawhinney's bag this min- 
ute that'll cheer us all up. I'm a poor, mealy man to be 
complaining like that, Hannah, when there's many is 
worse off nor me . . . only I can't help it sometimes. It's 
when the men are coming down the " loanie " in the even- 
ing with their scythes over their shoulders, and then tired 
and sweating and hungry for their suppers! . . . Well, 
God knows His own ways best, and there's many in the 
world has a harder time nor I have. 

Hannah Ferguson (trying to take his mind off his ill- 
ness). I was letting on too, da! 

Sarah Ferguson. Well, indeed, you might have em- 
ployed your time to better advantage, Hannah. You can 
let on till you're tired, but you'll never alter anything that 
way. 

John Ferguson. What were you letting on, daughter? 

Hannah Ferguson. I was letting on that my Uncle 
Andrew had sent you all the money you need ! 

Sarah Ferguson. Well, I hope your pretence will come 
true, for if he doesn't, we'll have to flit out of this. It'll 
break your da's heart to go, and it'll break my heart too. 
(She rises and puts her work on the dresser.) I come 
here as a young girl, no older nor yourself, Hannah, to be 
married on your da, and I've lived here ever since. I'll 
never be happy nowhere else. 

John Ferguson (ruminatingly) . Ay, it'll be hard to 

go- 

Sarah Ferguson. There's no sense or purpose in it, 
God forgive me for saying it! 



14 John Ferguson 

John Ferguson. There's a meaning in it, whatever 
happens. I can't see God's purpose, but I know well 
there is one. His hand never makes a mistake. 

Hannah Ferguson (bitterly). It's quare and hard to 
see what purpose there is in misfortune and trouble for 
people that never done nothing to deserve it ! 

Sarah Ferguson. Ah, quit it, Hannah! If God was 
to hear you saying the like of that, he'd mebbe strike you 
dead. 

John Ferguson. Daughter, dear, you're a young slip 
of a girl, or you'd never talk that way. (Sternly.) Do 
you think God doesn't know how to look after His own 
world ? ( The severity of his voice relaxes. ) Everything 
that happens is made to happen, and everything in the 
world, the commonest wee fly in the bushes before the door 
there, has a purpose and a meaning. There's things hid 
from you and me because we're not fit to know them, but 
the more we fill ourselves with the glory of God, the better 
we get to understand the world. It's people that's full of 
sin, Hannah, that can't see or understand. That's sin — 
not knowing or understanding ! Ignorance is sin. Keep- 
ing your mind shut is sin. Not letting the sun and the 
air and the warmth of God into your heart — that's sin, 
Hannah ! 

[He sinks hack in his chair, fatigued by his 
outburst. 

Sarah Ferguson. There, now, you've made yourself 
tired. 

John Ferguson (weakly). I'm all right, woman! 

Hannah Ferguson (going towards the door). I wish 
to my goodness that man Mawhinney would come with the 
letters ! 



John Ferguson 15 

John Ferguson. He'll soon be here now. 

Hannah Ferguson (looking out). He's never in sight) 
yet! (She speaks the next sentence petulantly, returning 
to her seat on the sofa as she does so.) Och, here's that 
man, Jimmy Caesar! I wonder what he wants! 

Sarah Ferguson. I wouldn't be surprised but it's you 
he's after! This isn't the first time he's been here lately, 
nor yet the second. 

Hannah Ferguson (crossly). Och, ma, quit talking! 
I wouldn't marry him if he was the last man in the world. 

Sarah Ferguson. Well, dear bless us, if he was the 
last man in the world, and I wanted him for myself, I 
wouldn't like to run the risk of making you an offer of 
him! Sure, what's wrong with the man? 

Hannah Ferguson (contemptuously). He's an old 
collie, that's what he is ! He has no spirit in him at all ! 
Look at the way he goes on about Henry Witherow and 
what he'll do to him when he gets the chance ! He's had 
many a chance, but he's done nothing. 

Sarah Ferguson. Would you have him kill the man? 

Hannah Ferguson. He shouldn't go about the place 
threatening to have Witherow's life when he doesn't mean 
to take it. 

John Ferguson. Daughter, dear, I don't like to hear 
you speaking so bitterly. It's foolish of Jimmy Caesar 
to talk in the wild way he does, though, dear knows, he's 
had great provocation. But he doesn't mean the half he 
says! 

Hannah Ferguson. Well, he shouldn't say it then! 

Sarah Ferguson. Ah, now, Hannah, if we were all to 
say just what we meant, more nor half of us would be 
struck dumb. 



i6 John Ferguson 

John Ferguson. Ay, you're right, woman! You are, 
indeed ! Henry Witherow's a hard man, and he put many 
an indignity on Jimmy Caesar's family. If you knew all 
he's had to bear, Hannah, you'd pity him, and not be say- 
ing hard words against him. 

Sarah Ferguson. Ay, indeed, John! Witherow '11 not) 
be soft on us if we can't pay him what we owe him, and 
then, Hannah, you'll mebbe understand what Jimmy 
Caesar's feelings are. 

Hannah Ferguson. I'll never understand the feelings 
of a collie. I like a man to have a spirit and do what he's 
said he'd do, or else keep his tongue quiet in his head. 

Sarah Ferguson. Now, it's brave and hard to be hav- 
ing a spirit in these times. Sure, the man must have some 
pluck in him to turn round and make a good business for 
himself after him losing near every halfpenny he had, and 
that man Witherow near bankrupting him, and killing his 
old da and ma with grief. That's not a poor, paltry 
spirit, is it? 

John Ferguson. You'd better quit talking about him 
now. He'll step in the door any minute. Where was he 
when you saw him, Hannah? 

Hannah Ferguson. He was at the foot of the 
" loanie." 

Sarah Ferguson. It's a credit to him the way he's 
slaved and saved. I daresay he has a big bit of money 
saved up in the Ulster Bank. (She goes to the door and 
looks out.) Ay, here he's coming! (She calls out to 
Caesar.) Is that you, Jimmy? (Caesar is heard to 
shout in response.) If Hannah was to marry him, the 
way he wants her. . . . 



John Ferguson 17 

Hannah Ferguson. I wouldn't marry him if he was 
rolling in riches and had gallons of gold! 

Sarah Ferguson (returning to the kitchen). Och, 
wheesht with you! Sure, the man's right enough, and 
anyway one man's no worse nor another ! 

[James Caesar comes to the door. He is a 
mean-looking man, about thirty-five years 
of age, and his look of meanness is not 
mitigated by his air of prosperity. His 
movements are awkward, and his speech 
is nervous. He is very eager to please 
Hannah, whom he pretends not to see. 
James Caesar. Good-day to you all ! 
John Ferguson. Good-day to you, Jimmy! 
James Caesar (hesitating at the door). Can I come in? 
Sarah Ferguson. Sure, do! You know you're always 
welcome here, Jimmy! 

James Caesar (entering). It's kind of you to say that! 
(He puts his hat on the dresser.) It's a brave day! 
Sarah Ferguson. It's not so bad. 
James Caesar. It'll do good to harvest. (Pretending 
to see Hannah for the first time.) Is that you, Hannah? 
I didn't see you when I come in first. I hope you're keep- 
ing your health? 

Hannah Ferguson (coldly). I'm bravely, thank you! 
James Caesar. I didn't see you this while back, and I 
was wondering to myself were you not well or something. 
I'm glad to see you looking so fine on it. ( To John Fer- 
guson.) Did you hear from your brother Andrew, John? 
Sarah Ferguson. Sam Mawhinney's not got this 
length yet. Did you see him as you were coming up? 



i8 John Ferguson 

James Caesar. I did not. Are you keeping well, 
John? 

John Ferguson. I'm as well as can be expected, 
Jimmy. 

James Caesar. That's good. I'm glad to hear it. 
It'll be a great blow to you if you have to leave the farm. 

John Ferguson. It will. 

James Caesar {bitterness growing into his voice). Ay, 
it's a quare blow to any man to have to leave the house he 
was born and reared in, the way I had to do. It's With- 
erow has your mortgage, isn't it ? 

John Ferguson. Ay. 

James Caesar. God curse him ! 

John Ferguson (reproachfully). Jimmy, Jimmy! 

James Caesar. Ah, you're a forgiving man, John Fer- 
guson, but I'm not, and never will be. Look at the way 
he treated me and mine. I've never forgot that, and I 
never will if I live to be a hundred years old. (Vio- 
lently.) I'll choke the life out of him one of these days! 

Hannah Ferguson (turning away scornfully). Ah, 
quit, for dear sake. You're always talking, Jimmy 
Caesar ! 

James Caesar (ashamedly). Ay, I'm always talking, 
Hannah, and never doing! 'Deed and you're right! 
When I think of the things he done to me, I go near dis- 
tracted with shame for taking it as quiet as I have done. 
I go out sometimes, demented mad, swearing to have his 
life — and I come home again, afeard to lay a finger on 
him. He's big and powerful, and he can take a holt of 
me and do what he likes with me. I'm heartsore at my 
weakness! That's the God's truth! You do well, Han- 
nah, to be making little of me for a poor-natured man, 



John Ferguson 19 

but it's not for want of desire I don't do an injury to him. 
I haven't the strength — or the courage. 

John Ferguson. What way is that to be talking, 
Jimmy Caesar ? Would you sin your soul with a murder ? 
Man, man, mind what you're saying and thinking! 
You're in God's grief already for the thoughts you have in 
your head. Them that has bad thoughts are no better in 
His eyes nor them that does bad deeds. 

Sarah Ferguson. Ah, sure, you can't help having 
thoughts, whatever kind of a mind you have! 

John Ferguson. You can help brooding on them. 
What call has Jimmy to be wasting his mind on thinking 
bad about Henry Witherow? Your life isn't your own 
to do what you like with. It's God's life, and no one 
else's. And so is Henry Witherow's. If you take his life 
or any man's life, no matter why you do it, you're robbing 
God. 

Sarah Ferguson. Ah, for dear sake, quit talking about 
murders. You'll have me out of my mind with fear. 
Sure, nobody wants to kill anybody these times, what with 
civilisation and all them things. 

Hannah Ferguson (sneeringly) . Och, ma, don't dis- 
turb yourself! Sure, you know it's only talk! 

James Caesar. Hannah! 

Hannah Ferguson. What? 

James Caesar. I wanted to have a talk with you, and 
I was wondering would you be coming dowai the town the 
night ? 

Hannah Ferguson (decisively). I'm not. 

Sarah Ferguson. Ah, now, Hannah, you can just go 
down and get a few things from Jimmy's shop that I'm 
wanting. I was thinking of going myself, but sure you 



20 John Ferguson 

can just step that length and bring them back with you; 
and while you're on the way, Jimmy can say what he 
wants to say. 

Hannah Ferguson (sullenly). You don't need the 
things till the morning, ma, and if you give Jimmy the 
order now, he can send them up the morrow. 

James Caesar. Hannah, I want to speak to you par- 
ticular. Will you not come out with me for a wee while? 
Hannah Ferguson. I'm not in the way of going out 
again the night, thank you! 

Sarah Ferguson. Now, you've notliing to do, Hannah, 
and you can go along with him rightly. 
Hannah Ferguson. I've plenty to do. 

[Henry Witherov^ passes the window. 
Sarah Ferguson. Lord save us, there's Witherow. 

[James Caesar instinctively goes into the cor- 
ner of the room farthest from the door. 
Henry Witherow, a tall, heavy, coarse- 
looking man, with a thick, brutal jaw, 
comes into the kitchen. He has a look 
of great and ruthless strength, and all his 
movements are those of a man of decision 
and assurance. He does not ask if he 
may enter the kitchen and sit down; he 
assumes that he may do so. 
Henry Witherov^ {sitting down). Well, how're you 
all the day? 

Sarah Ferguson {nervously). We're rightly, thank 
God, Mr. Witherow! 

Henry Witherow. I'm glad to hear it. I was just 
passing, John, and I thought I'd drop in and hear how 
you were getting on. 



John Ferguson 21 

John Ferguson. That was thoughtful of you, Henry. 

Henry WiTHEROW. How're you, Hannah ! {He looks 
closely at her.) Boys, but you're getting to be a fine-look- 
ing girl, Hannah! {He turns to Mrs. Ferguson.) 
You'll be having all the boys after her! Faith, I wouldn't 
mind going after her myself. 

James Caesar {pale with anger). Keep your talk to 
yourself, Henry Witherow! 

Henry Witherow {contemptuously). Ah, you're 
there, are you? You haven't a notion of him, have you, 
Hannah ? 

Hannah Ferguson. Your manners could be better, 
Mr. Witherow. 

Henry Witherow {laughing). Could they, now? 
And who would improve them, eh? Mr. James Caesar, 
Esquire, mebbe? 

James Caesar. We want no discourse with you, Henry 
Witherow. Your presence in this house is not wel- 



come 



Henry Witherow. Oh, indeed! Have you bought 
the house? I've heard nothing about the sale, and I think 
I should have heard something about it. I hold the mort- 
gage, you know. . . . 

John Ferguson. There's no need for bitter talk, 
Henry. Jimmy forgot himself. 

Henry Witherow. Ah, well, as long as he admits it 
and says he's sorry! 

James Caesar. I'm not sorry. 

Henry Witherow. God help you, your tongue's the 
strongest part of you. {To John Ferguson.) Now 
that I'm here, John, perhaps we could discuss a wee mat- 
ter of business. I don't suppose you want to talk about 



22 John Ferguson 

your affairs before all the neighbours, and so if Mr. 
James Caesar will attend to his shop. . . . 

Sarah Ferguson (to Hannah). You can go down to 
the shop with him now, daughter, and leave your da and 
me to talk to Mr. Witherow. (She speaks quietly to Han- 
nah.) For God's sake, Hannah, have him if he asks you. 
Witherow '11 not spare us, and mebbe Jimmy '11 pay the 
mortgage. 

Henry Witherow (to John Ferguson). I suppose 
you haven't had any word from Andrew yet? 

John Ferguson. Not yet, Henry. 

Henry Witherow. H'm, that's bad! 

[Sam Mawhinney, the postman, goes past 
the window and then past the door. 

Sarah Ferguson. Lord bless us, there's Sam Mawhin- 
ney away past the door. (She runs to the door.) Hi, Sam, 
are you going past without giving us our letter ? 

Sam Mawhinney (coming to the door). What letter, 
Mrs. Ferguson? 

Sarah Ferguson (anxiously). Haven't you one for 
us? . . . 

Sam Mawhinney. I have not. 

Hannah Ferguson. You haven't! . . . 

Sarah Ferguson. Oh, God save us, he hasn't written 
after all! 

Hannah Ferguson. Isn't the American mail in yet, 
Sam? 

Sam Mawhinney. It's in, right enough. I left a letter 
at Braniel's from their daughter over in Boston. Were 
you expecting one ? 

John Ferguson (desolation in his voice). Ay, Sam, 



John Ferguson 23 

we were thinking there might be one, but it doesn't matter. 
We'll not keep you from your work. 

Sam Mawhinney. I hope you're not put out by it. 
It's a quare disappointment not to get a letter and you ex- 
pecting it. 

John Ferguson. Ay, Sam, it is. 

Sam Mawhinney. Well, good-evening to you ! 

John Ferguson. Good-evening to you, Sam ! 

[The postman quits the door. Sarah Fer- 
guson sits down in a chair near the 
dresser and begins to cry. Hannah 
stands at the window looking out with 
hard, set eyes. Jimmy Caesar stands 
near her, twisting his cap awkwardly in 
his hands. John Ferguson lies hack in 
his chair in silence. They are quiet for 
a few moments, during which Henry 
Witherow glances about him, taking in 
the situation with satisfaction. 
Henry Witherow. I suppose that means you can't get 
the money to pay off the mortgage, John ? 
John Ferguson. Fm afeard so, Henry. 
Henry Witherow {rising). Well, I'm sorry for you. 
I have a great respect for you, John, and I'd do more for 
you nor for any one, but money's very close at present, and 
I need every penny I can put my hands on. I'll have to 
stand by my bargain. I'm sorry for you all! 

James Caesar. That's a lie, Henry Witherow, and you 
know well it is! You're the fine man to come here let- 
ting on to be sorry for John Ferguson when you would do 
anything to get him out of this. If you were sorry for him 



24 John Ferguson 

what did you call in your money for when you knew he 
couldn't pay it ? You know rightly you've had your heart 
set on the farm these years past, and you're afeard of your 
life he'll mebbe pay the mortgage. . . . 

Henry Witherow (going to him and shaking him 
roughly). I've stood enough of your back-chat, Caesar, 
and I'll stand no more of it. 

James Caesar (feebly). Let me go, will you? 

Henry Witherow. I'll let you go when I've done with 
you. 

Hannah Ferguson (going to Witherow and striking 
him in the face). Go out of this house, Henry Witherow. 
It's not yours yet, and till it is, there's the door to you! 

Henry Witherow (throwing Caesar from him so that 
he falls on the floor, where he lies moaning and shivering). 
Heth, Hannah, you're a fine woman! You are, in sang! 
It's a pity to waste you on a lad like that! (He pushes 
Caesar with his foot.) You ought to marry a man, Han- 
nah, and not an old Jenny-Jo! (He turns to John Fer- 
guson.) John, I'll have to have a serious talk with you 
in a wee while, but it's no good stopping to have it now 
with all this disturbance. I'll go and see M'Conkey, the 
lawyer, first. 

John Ferguson. Very well, Henry. 

Henry Witherow. I'm sorry for you, but I must look 
after myself. 

John Ferguson. Ay, so you must. It's a hard 
thing to have to leave the home you're used to, but it can't 
be helped. I'm getting an old man, and I haven't much 
longer here. I'd like to end my days where they were be- 
gun, but . . . 

Hannah Ferguson (going to her father). Don't take 



John Ferguson 25 

on, da! There'll mebbe be a way out of it all. (To 
WiTHEROW.) Mr. Witherow, will you not let the mort- 
gage go on for a while longer? We've had a great deal 
of trouble lately, and my brother Andrew's not accus- 
tomed to the farm yet. If you were to give us more time, 
mebbe my uncle'll send the money later on . . . 

Henry Witherov^. Ay, and mebbe he'll not. Your 
Uncle Andrew's not over-anxious to part with anything as 
far as I can see. I'm sorry, Hannah, but I can't ruin my- 
self to oblige other people. 

John Ferguson. It was to be. You can foreclose, 
Henry. 

Sarah Ferguson. Andrew's a poor brother to you, 
John, to let you be brought to this bother and you sick and 
sore. 

John Ferguson. Poor Andrew, he must be heart- 
scalded at not being able to send the money. He'd have 
sent it if he had had it by him. I know he would. I can 
picture him there, not writing because he hasn't the heart 
to tell us he can't send the money. 

[Caesar, who has risen from the floor, comes 
to John Ferguson and speaks almost 
hysterically. 

James Caesar. John, I know rightly that Witherow 
has set his heart on your farm. I know he has, and he's 
an old hypocrite if he says he's sorry for you! But I'll 
spite him yet, I will ! I'm willing to pay off the mortgage 
for you if it costs me every penny I have . . . 

Sarah Ferguson (rising and embracing him). Oh, 
God reward you, Jimmy! 

James Caesar (putting her aside). If Hannah '11 lis- 
ten to me . . . 



26 John Ferguson 

Henry Witherow. Ay, if Hannah '11 listen to you ! 
Huh! You'd make a bargain on your ma's coffin, Jimmy 
Caesar! 

James Caesar (weakly). I don't want nothing more to 
say to you, Henry Witherow. Anything that passes be- 
tween you and me now will come through a solicitor. 

Henry Witherow. Ay, you're mighty fond of the law. 
You'll get your iill of it one of these days. {To Han- 
nah.) Well, my bold girl, are you going to take the fine 
offer's been made for you here by Mr. James Caesar, Es- 
quire. Because I'd like to know what the position is be- 
fore I go. There's no good in me going to M'Conkey and 
incurring expense needlessly ! 

Hannah Ferguson. I bid you go before, Mr. Withe- 
row. Will you have me bid you go again ? 

Henry Witherow. Ah, now, quit talking ! 

Hannah Ferguson. It's well for you my da's sick and 
there's no man in the house to chastise you the way you 
deserve. I can't put you out myself, so you must stay if 
you won't go. 

Henry Witherow {disconcerted, and beginning to 
bluster). Oh, come now, Hannah, there's no need to go on 
like that. 

Hannah Ferguson {resuming her seat on the sofa). 
I've said all I've got to say, Mr. Witherow. A decent man 
wouldn't be standing there after what I've said to you. 

[The sound of a tin whistle is heard outside. 

James Caesar. Mebbe you'll go now, Witherow ! 

Henry Witherow. If I go, it'll not be because you ask 
me! {To Hannah.) You've a sharp tongue in your 
head, Hannah! I'd like to cut a bit of it off for you! 
{To John Ferguson.) Well, John, you'll mebbe let me 



John Ferguson 27 

know later on what course you'll take about the mortgage. 
I'll be up at the mill the rest of the day. Good-morning 
to you all ! 

[He goes out. 
James Caesar. Hell to him! 

[The whistling which has persisted all this 
time stops suddenly, and Henry With- 
EROW is heard outside shouting ," Get out^ 
of my road, damn you! " and then 
*' Clutie " John Magrath, the half- 
wit, is heard crying, "Ah, don't strike 
me, Mr. Witherow." 
Sarah Ferguson {going to the door). Ah, dear save 
us, he's couped " Clutie " John into the hedge! 

James Caesar. That's all he can do — strike weak 
lads like myself, and beat poor fellows that's away in the 
mind like " Clutie " John! 

Sarah Ferguson {returning to the kitchen). Ah, well, 
he's not much hurt anyway! {Her eyes are still wet with 
tears, and she wipes them as she sits down.) 

[ The tin whistle is heard again, and continues 
to be heard until " Clutie " John ap- 
pears at the door. 
James Caesar {to John Ferguson). You heard what 
I said, John? 

John Ferguson {picking up his Bible and preparing 
to read it again). Ay, Jimmy, I heard you. You have a 
heart of com! {He reads.) "For his anger endureth 
not for a moment; in his favour is life: weeping may en- 
dure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." ( To his 
wife, who still weeps silently.) What are you crying for, 
Sarah? Do you not hear this from God's Word? 



28 John Ferguson 

" Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the 
morning." That's a promise, isn't it? Dry your eyes, 
woman! God's got everything planned, and He knows 
what's best to be done. Don't be affronting Him with 
tears! . . . 

James Caesar (touching him). John, did you not hear 
me? I was saying I'd pay the mortgage if Hannah would 
only listen to me . . . 

John Ferguson. Ay, Jimmy, I heard you right enough, 
and I'm thankful to you. It's kind and neighbourly of 
you, but Hannah has to decide them things for herself 
with the help of God, not with mine. There's no good in 
a man and a woman marrying if they have no kindly feel- 
ing for each other. I would rather Henry Witherow fore- 
closed nor let Hannah do anything she didn't want to do. 

Hannah Ferguson. Da! (She kneels beside him.) 

John Ferguson (drawing her close to him). Ay, 
daughter ? 

Hannah Ferguson (struggling to speak). Da, I . . . 
I . . . 

James Caesar (eagerly). I wouldn't make a hard bar- 
gain with you, John ! Do you hear me, Hannah ? Your 
da and ma could live on in the place where he was 
bom . . . 

Sarah Ferguson. God '11 reward you, Jimmy 1 

[Hannah Ferguson gets up from her place 
by her father's side. She looks at the 
old man for a few moments. He takes 
her hand in his and presses it warmly, 
and then smiles at her. 

John Ferguson. Whatever you think best '11 be right, 
Hannah ! 



John Ferguson 29 

Hannah Ferguson. Ay, da. (To James Caesar.) 
I thank you for your offer, Jimmy! I'll . . . I'll have 
you! 

John Ferguson (hoarsely). Hannah? 

Hannah Ferguson. I'll have him, da! 

Sarah Ferguson (embracing her). Oh, thank God, 
Hannah, thank God! 

James Caesar (uncertainly). 1 can't tell you all I 
feel, Hannah, but I'll be a good man to you. 

John Ferguson. May God bless the two of you! 

[The sound of the tin whistle grows louder. 
" Clutie " John Magrath appears at 
the door. He is a half-wit and his age 
is about thirty. 

" Clutie " John. I see you're all there! 

Sarah Ferguson. Och, away on with you, "Clutie"! 
We don't want you here with your whistle ! 

"Clutie" John (entering the kitchen). Ah, now, 
Mrs. Ferguson, what harm does my whistle do to 
you? (To James Caesar.) Good-evening to you, Mr. 
Caesar ! 

James Caesar (sharply). I have nothing for you! 

" Clutie " John. That's a quare pity, Mr. Caesar! I 
was thinking to myself as I was coming along, " Clutie " 
John, if you were to meet Mr. Caesar now, he'd mebbe give 
you the lend of a halfpenny ! " 

James Caesar. Well, you were thinking wrong then, 
and you can just march on out of this as quick as you like. 
There's no money here for you. 

" Clutie " John. Ah, well, the Lord will send relief, 
though you won't be the honoured instrument. Sure, I'll 
just play a tune to you for the pleasure of the thing. (He 



30 John Ferguson 

puts the whistle to his lips, and then takes it away again.) 
You didn't kill Mr. Witherow yet, Mr. Caesar? 

James Caesar {furiously). Go 'long to hell out of 
this, will you? (He is about to strike " Clutie " John, 
but Mrs. Ferguson prevents him from doing so.) 

Sarah Ferguson. Ah, don't hurt the poor soul, Jimmy! 
Sure, you know rightly he's astray in the mind. 

" Clutie " John. Ay, that's true, Mrs. Ferguson ! 
That's true enough. I'm away in the head and I ought 
to be locked up in the asylum! And I would be if I was 
worse nor I am! It's a quare pity of a man that's not 
distracted enough to be put in the madhouse and not wise 
enough to be let do what the rest of you do. It's a hard 
thing now that a man as harmless as myself can't be let 
play his whistle in peace. 

James Caesar. Why don't you do some work? 

" Clutie " John. Sure, didn't I tell you I'm astray in 
the mind ! 

James Caesar. It's a nice thing when a big lump of a 
man like yourself goes tramping about the country playing 
tunes on an old whistle instead of turning your hand to 
something useful. You can work well enough if you like. 

" Clutie " John {regarding his whistle affectionately). 
I would rather be whistling. There's plenty can work, 
but few can whistle. 

Hannah Ferguson. What do you want, " Clutie "? 

" Clutie " John. I want many's a thing that I'll never 
get. Did you ever hear me whistling, " Willie Reilly and 
his Colleen Bawn "? That's a grand tune, for all it's a 
Catholic tune! 

James Caesar. We heard it many's a time, and we 
don't want to hear it again. Quit out of the place! 



John Ferguson 31 

John Ferguson. Come here, " Clutie "! (" Clutie " 
John goes to him.) Did you want anything to eat? 

" Clutie " John. I always want something to eat. 

John Ferguson. Hannah, give him a sup of sweet 
milk and a piece of soda bread. Poor lad, his belly is 
empty many's a time. 

[Hannah goes to get the bread and milk for " Clutie." 

James Caesar. It's a nice thing for her to be attending 
on the like of him. 

John Ferguson. Why shouldn't she serve him? 
We're all children of the one Father, and we're serving 
Him when we're serving each other. 

" Clutie " John. Will I whistle a tune to you, Mr. 
Ferguson? {He does not wait for permission, but begins 
to play " Willie Reilly and his Colleen Bawn.") 

Sarah Ferguson. Ah, quit it, will you? You'll have 
me deafened with your noise ! 

" Clutie " John. Do you not like my whistle, Mrs. 
Ferguson? It's grand music. You should see the wee 
childher running after me when I play it. " Play us a 
tune, Clutie John! " they shout when I go by, and sure I 
just play one to them. They're quare and fond of my 
whistle. It's only people with bitter minds that doesn't 
like to hear it. (Hannah brings the bread and milk to 
him, and he puts down his whistle in order to take them 
from her.) Ah, God love you, Hannah, for your kind 
heart ! 

Hannah Ferguson. Did Henry Witherow hurt you, 
" Clutie," when he couped you in the hedge? 

"Clutie" John. He did, in sang! He couped me 
head over heels, and me doing nothing at all to him. 
That's a bitter man, Hannah, that would take the bite out 



32 John Ferguson 

of your mouth if it would bring a happorth of profit to 
him. He never was known to give anything to anybody, 
that man! It's a poor and hungry house he has. I was 
there one day when he was at his dinner, and he never as 
much as asked me had I a mouth on me at all. 

James Caesar. Ay, you're right there! You are, in- 
deed ! There's no charity or loving-kindness about him. 

" Clutte " John. Well, he's not the only one in the 
world that's like that I 

James Caesar. There's people says he sold his soul to 
the devil. 

" Clutie " John. Ah, why would the devil be buying 
souls when he can get millions of them for nothing ? ( To 
John Ferguson.) Did your brother Andrew send the 
money to pay off the mortgage, Mr. Ferguson ? 

James Caesar. What do you know about his brother 
Andrew ? 

" Clutie " John. I know many's a thing! I can tell 
you where a kingfisher has his nest this minute. I saw a 
golden eagle once! It was in the West I saw it when I 
was whistling in Connacht. It was a great big bird with 
a beak on it that would tear the life out of you if it was 
that way inclined. {He finishes the milk.) This is the 
grand sweet milk! And the fine new bread, too! Isn't 
it grand now to have plenty of that ? Will you not let me 
play a tune to you to reward you ? Sure, I'll not ask you 
to give me the lend of a halfpenny for it, though you can 
if you like! I'll do it just for the pleasure of it. 

John Ferguson. No, " Clutie," we can't have you 
playing your whistle here the night. You must go home 
now. We have something important to talk about. 



John Ferguson 33 

Sarah Ferguson. Go on, " Clutie " John! Away 
home with you now! We've had enough of your chat for 
one night. You can finish your bread in the " loanie." 

James Caesar. I'm going now, Hannah. Will you 

walk a piece of the road with me? I've not had you a 

minute to myself yet with all these interruptions ! 

Hannah Ferguson (submissively). Very well. Jimmy! 

" Clutie " John (astotUshed) . Are you going to marry 

him, Hannah ? 

Hannah Ferguson. Ay, " Clutie." 

" Clutie " John (incredulously) . Ah, you're codding ! 

James Caesar. Come on, Hannah, and not be wasting 

your time talking to him! (He goes to the door.) Here's 

Andrew coming across the fields. We'd better wait and 

tell him. 

" Clutie " John. It'll be a great surprise for him. 
Sarah Ferguson. Ay, and great joy to him when he 
knows we'll not have to quit the farm after all. 

[Andrew^ Ferguson enters. He is a slight, 
delicate-looking lad of nineteen, nearer in 
looks to his father than his mother. He 
is very tired after his work in the fields, 
and he carelessly throws the bridle he is 
carrying into a corner of the kitchen as if 
he were too fatigued to put it in its proper 
place. 
Andrew Ferguson. Good-evening to you, Jimmy! 
James Caesar. Good evening, Andrew! You're look- 
ing tired on it ! 

Andrew Ferguson (sitting down heavily). I am tired. 
How're you, da? 



34 John Ferguson 

John Ferguson. I'm rightly, son! 

Andrew Ferguson. Ma, can I have a drop of sweet 
milk to drink? I'm nearly dead with the drouth. 

[Mrs. Ferguson goes to crock to get the milk 
for him. 

James Caesar. Andrew, I've great news for you. Me 
and your sister's going to be married on it. 

Andrew Ferguson (starting up). You're what? 
(His mother puts a cup of milk into his hands.) Thank 
you, ma! 

James Caesar. Ay, we're going to be married, Andrew. 
Hannah's just settled it. 

Sarah Ferguson. And we'll not have to quit out of the 
farm after all, Andrew ! Jimmy says he'll pay the mort- 
gage off! 

Andrew Ferguson (vaguely). But I thought! . . . 
(He turns to Hannah.) 

Hannah Ferguson (quickly). It's kind of Jimmy, 
isn't it, Andrew? 

Andrew Ferguson (after a pause). Ay . . . it's kind! 

James Caesar. We just stopped to tell the news to you, 
Andrew, to hearten you up after your day's work, and now 
Hannah and me's going for a bit of a dandher together. 
We haven't had a chance of a word by ourselves yet, and 
you know the way a couple likes to be by their lone, don't 
you? Are you ready, Hannah? 

Hannah Ferguson. Ay. 

James Caesar. Well, come on! Good-night to you 
all! 

Omnes. Good-night, Jimmy! 

" Clutie " John. God reward you, Mr. Caesar. 

James Caesar (contemptuously). Och, you! 



John Ferguson 35 

[He goes out. Hannah follows him to the 
door. 

Hannah Ferguson. I won't be long before I'm back. 

[Exit. 

Andrew Ferguson. Da, is it true about Hannah and 
Jimmy? 

John Ferguson. Ay, son, it's true. You saw them go- 
ing out together. 

Andrew Ferguson. But . . . did she do it of her own 
free will ? 

John Ferguson. Would I force her to it, Andrew ? 

Andrew Ferguson. No . . . only ... I suppose my 
uncle Andrew didn't write, then? 

John Ferguson. No. 

Andrew Ferguson. I wonder what made her . . . It's 
a quare set-out, this ! 

" Clutie " John. Did you never hear the story of the 
girl that killed herself over the head of love ? It's a quare 
sad story. 

Sarah Ferguson. Ah, wheesht with you, ''Clutie"! 
Didn't I tell you before to quit out of this? 

"Clutie" John (coaxingly). Let me stay a wee 
while longer here by the fire, Mrs. Ferguson. I'll not be 
disturbing you. 

Sarah Ferguson. Well, close the door, then, and don't 
be talking so much! (" Clutie " John does as she bids 
him.) Go up there now by the fire, and content yourself. 
[" Clutie " sits down in a corner of the fire- 
place. Mrs. Ferguson seats herself on 
the sofa. 

Andren Ferguson. I saw Witherow going down the 
" loanie." I suppose he was in here about the mortgage? 



36 John Ferguson 

John Ferguson. Ay, he was. He knows about Han- 
nah and Jimmy. 

Sarah Ferguson. There was a row between Witherow 
and Jimmy, and they had a bit of a scuffle. Witherow 
caught a holt of Jimmy and knocked him down, and then 
Hannah went forward and struck Witherow fiat in the 
face. You could have knocked me down with a feather 
when she did it. 

Andrew Ferguson. That was a queer thing for her to 
do. Mebbe she's changed her mind about him. She 
could hardly find a word hard enough for him one time. 
I suppose it's all right. It's a load off my mind anyway 
to hear that the farm's safe, though God knows I'm a poor 
hand at working it. 

John Ferguson. You'll get into the way of it in a wee 
while, son, and mebbe I'll be able to give you more help 
now my mind's at ease. It's hard on you that was reared 
for the ministry to have to turn your hand to farming and 
you not used to it ! 

Andrew Ferguson. I daresay it'll do me some sort of 
good. 

" Clutie " John. Listen! The girl I was telling you 
about, the one that killed herself, it was because her boy 
fell out with her. That was the cause of it! She cried 
her eyes out to him, but it made no differs, and so she 
threw herself off a hill and was killed dead. 

Andrew Ferguson. Wheesht, " Clutie "! 

Sarah Ferguson. Dear only knows where you get all 
them stories from that you're always telling, " Clutie " ! 

" Clutie " John. I hear them in my travels. 

Sarah Ferguson. Do you never hear no comic ones ? 

*' Clutie " John. Ah, I can't mind the comic ones. I 



John Ferguson 37 

just mind the sad ones. Them's the easiest to mind. 
They say the man was sorry afterwards when he heard tell 
she'd killed herself, but sure it was no use being sorry 
then. He should have been sorry before. It was a great 
lep she took. 

Andrew Ferguson. What's Jimmy going to do about 
the mortgage ? Is he going to take it on himself or what ? 

John Ferguson. I suppose so. We haven't settled 
anything. He said I could stay on here, your ma and me, 
with you to manage the farm. 

Sarah Ferguson. It's brave and kind of him to do the 
like. 

Andrev^^ Ferguson. I don't see where the kindness 
comes in if he gets Hannah to marry him over it ! I hope 
to God she's not doing it just to save the farm. 

John Ferguson. It was her own choice, Andrew, son. 
I said to her I would rather go into the Poorhouse nor 
have her do anything against her will. I'm not saying 
I'm not glad she's consented to have Jimmy, for that 
would be a lie. I am glad . . . 

Andrew Ferguson. Because the farm's safe, da ? 

John Ferguson. Ay, Andrew ! ( They are silent for a 
few moments.) What are you thinking, son? Are you 
thinking I'm letting her marry Jimmy against her will 
just to save the farm ? Is that what you're thinking ? 

Andrew Ferguson (evasively). I don't know what 
to think, da. 

John Ferguson. I left her to her own choice. Didn't 
I, Sarah? 

Sarah Ferguson. Ay, John, you did, and sure what 
does it matter anyway? She's a young slip of a girl with 
wayward fancies in her head, mebbe, but Jimmy's as good 



38 John Ferguson 

and substantial a man as she's like to get, and he'll be a 
good husband to her. It's a great thing for a girl to get a 
comfortable home to go to when she leaves the one she was 
reared in. There's plenty of young women does be run- 
ning after this and running after that, but sure there's 
nothing in the end to beat a kind man and a good home 
where the money is easy and regular. 

Andrew Ferguson. It's easy to be saying that, ma, 
when you're past your desires. 

Sarah Ferguson. I got my desire, Andrew, when I got 
your da. I never desired no one else but him. 

Andrew^ Ferguson. Would you like to have married 
Jimmy Caesar if he'd been your match when you were 
Hannah's age? 

Sarah Ferguson. There was never no question of me 
marrying any one but your da . . . 

Andrev^^ Ferguson. But if there had — if your da's 
farm had been mortgaged like this one? . . . 

Sarah Ferguson. Ah, what's the good of if-ing and 
supposing? There's a deal too much of that goes on in 
this house. And, anyway, we can't let your da be turned 
out of his home. 

Andrew Ferguson. Then that is the reason! Han- 
nah's marrying Jimmy Caesar for our sakes, not for her 
own! 

John Ferguson. No, no, Andrew, son, that's not it. I 
tell you she took him of her own free will. I wouldn't 
put no compulsion on her . . . 

Andrew Ferguson. No, da, I know you wouldn't; but 
are you sure you're not ready to believe she's taking him of 
her own free will just because she says she is? 

Sarah Ferguson. Sure, what else can he do? 



John Ferguson 39 

John Ferguson. God knows, Andrew, it'll hurt me 
sore to leave this house, but I'd go gladly out of it sooner 
nor cause Hannah a moment's unhappiness. I'm trying 
hard to do what's right. I don't think I'm acting 
hypocritically, and I'm not deceiving myself . . . 

[The door opens suddenly, and Hannah 
enters in a state of agitation. She closes 
the door behind her, and then stands with 
her face to it. She begins to sob without 
restraint. 
John Ferguson {rising from his chair). What is it, 
daughter ? 

Andrew Ferguson (going to her). Hannah! 
Sarah Ferguson. Don't bother her! {Going to her 
and drawing her into her arms.) There, Hannah, dear, 
don't disturb yourself, daughter, {To the others.) She's 
overwrought with the excitement. That's what it is! 
{To Hannah.) Come and sit down, dear! 

[She draws Hannah towards the sofa, where 
they both sit down. Hannah buries her 
face in her mother's shoulder and sobs 
bitterly. 
Sarah Ferguson. Control yourself, daughter I You're 
all right now! No one'll harm you here! 
John Ferguson. Are you not well, Hannah? 
Andrew Ferguson {coming close to his mother and 
sister). Hannah, do you not want to marry Jimmy 
Caesar ? 

Sarah Ferguson. Ah, wheesht with you, Andrew, and 
not be putting notions into her head! It's just over- 
wrought she is. You know well she's been as anxious 
about the farm as any of us, and about your da, too, and 



40 John Ferguson 

she bore the bother well, but now that it's all settled, she's 
had to give way. Sure, that's natural ! There, daughter, 
dear, just cry away till you're better. {She soothes 
Hannah as she speaks to her.) 

John Ferguson (kicking the rug from his legs and 
going unsteadily to his wife and daughter). Hannah! 
(Hannah, still sobbing, does not reply.) Hannah, 
daughter, do you hear me? 

Hannah Ferguson (without raising her head). Ay, 
da! 

John Ferguson. Listen to me a while! (He tries to 
raise her face to his.) Look up at me, daughter! (She 
turns towards him.) Don't cry, Hannah! I can't bear 
to see you crying, dear! (He makes her stand up, and 
then he clasps her to him.) Listen to me, Hannah ! I've 
never deceived you nor been unjust to you, have I, 
daughter ? 

Hannah Ferguson. No, da. 

John Ferguson. And you know I'd beg my bread from 
door to door sooner nor hurt you, don't you? Isn't that 
true? 

Hannah Ferguson. Ay, da, it is. 

John Ferguson. Well, don't be afeard to say what's in 
your mind, then! What is it that's upsetting you? 

Hannah Ferguson (putting her arms about his neck, 
and drawing herself closer to him.) Oh, da, I can't 
. . . I can't! . . . 

Sarah Ferguson. You can't what ? 

John Ferguson. Do you not want to marry Jimmy? 

Hannah Ferguson (sobbing anew). I can't thole him, 
da! . . . 

John Ferguson. Very well, daughter! That'll be all 



John Ferguson 41 

right! Don't annoy yourself no more about him, dear. 
It'll be all right. 

Hannah Ferguson. I tried hard to want him, da, but 
I couldn't, and when he bid me good-night and tried to 
kiss me out in the " loanie," I near died! . . . 

John Ferguson. I know, daughter. 

Sarah Ferguson {starting up in fear and anger). But 
you promised him, Hannah ! John, you're never going to 
let her break her word to the man ? . . . 

John Ferguson. Wheesht, woman! 

Sarah Ferguson {to her son). Andrew! . . . {She 
sees that Andrew's sympathies are with Hannah.) 
Hannah, think shame of yourself! 

Hannah Ferguson. I can't take him, ma, I can't! 

Sarah Ferguson. Do you want to see your da turned 
out of the home he was born in, and him old and sick and 
not able to help himself ? 

John Ferguson {angrily). Quit it, woman, when I 
tell you! 

Sarah Ferguson. What's wrong with the man that she 
won't take him? There isn't a decenter, quieter fellow 
in the place, and him never took drink nor played devil's 
cards in his life. There's plenty of girls would give the 
two eyes out of their head to have the chance of him. 
Martha M'Clurg and Ann Close and Maggie M'Conkey, 
the whole lot of them, would jump with joy if he was to 
give a word to them {she turns on Hannah), and what 
call have you to be setting yourself up when a decent, 
quiet man offers for you, and you knowing all that de- 
pends on it ? 

Andrew Ferguson. Ma, that's no way to talk to her! 

Sarah Ferguson. I'll say what I want to say. 



42 John Ferguson 

Andrew Ferguson. You'll say no more. If I hear 
you speaking another word to her like that, I'll walk out 
of the door and never come back again. 

Sarah Ferguson (sitting down and weeping help- 
lessly). Oh, you're all again' me, your da and Hannah 
and you! I'll have to quit the house I was brought to 
when I was a young girl, and mebbe live in a wee house 
in the town or go into the Union ! 

John Ferguson (putting Hannah into his chair). 
Sit down, daughter, and quieten yourself. (To his wife.) 
If we have to go into the Poorhouse, Sarah, we'll have to 
go. (To his son.) Put on your top-coat, Andrew, and 
go up to Witherow's and tell him he can take the farm . . . 

Hannah Ferguson (recovering herself slightly). No, 
da, no. I'm all right again. I'll marry Jimmy I I'm 
ashamed of the way I went on just now. My ma was 
right. It was just the upset that made me like it. 

Sarah Ferguson. Ay, daughter, that was it. 

John Ferguson. Wheesht, Sarah. Go on, Andrew. 

Andrew Ferguson. All right, da. 

Sarah Ferguson (angrily). Let her go herself and 
finish her work! The lad's wore out with tiredness . . . 

Andrew Ferguson. I'm not that tired, ma. 

Hannah Ferguson (firmly). I'll go, Andrew. It'll 
quieten me down to have the walk. (To her father.) 
Jimmy doesn't know yet, da. I didn't tell him, and he's 
coming up here the night after he shuts his shop. Mebbe 
you'll tell him before I come back? . . . 

John Ferguson. All right, daughter, I will. (To 
Andrew.) Hannah'U go, Andrew. She doesn't want to 
be here when Jimmy comes. (To Hannah.) Put a 



John Ferguson 43 

shawl over your head, daughter, and wrap yourself well 
from the night-air. 
Hannah Ferguson. Ay, da ! 

[She goes upstairs to make herself ready to 
go out. " Clutie " John makes a faint 
sound on his whistle. 
John Ferguson. Ah, are you still there, " Clutie " 
John? I'd near forgot about you. 

" Clutie '' John. Will I play " Willie Reilly and his 
Colleen Bawn " to you? 

John Ferguson. No, boy, not the night. Just keep 
quiet there in the heat of the fire. 

" Clutie " John. It's a brave warm fire. It's well to 
be them that has a good fire whenever they want it. 

[Hannah, wearing a shawl over her head, 
comes downstairs and goes across the 
kitchen to the door. 
John Ferguson. You'll not be long, Hannah ? 
Hannah Ferguson. No, da. 

[She opens the door and goes out, closing it 
behind her. 
John Ferguson. I wonder will Witherow let the farm 
to some one else or will he till it himself ? 

Andrew Ferguson. He'll mebbe till it himself. 
Sarah Ferguson. I'd better be laying the supper for 
you all. Is " Clutie " John to have his here? 

John Ferguson. Ay, let him have a bite to eat. We'll 

mebbe not be able to ... {He breaks off suddenly and 

turns to his son.) Light the lamp, Andrew, and draw 

the blinds. [He seats himself again in his chair. 

Andrew Ferguson. Draw the blinds, " Clutie." 



44 John Ferguson 

[He lights the lamp while " Clutie " draws 
the blinds and Mrs. Ferguson lays the 
table for supper. 
Andrew Ferguson. I wonder what time Jimmy'll 
come. 

John Ferguson. I hope he'll come soon so that he 
won't be here when Hannah comes back. 

Andrew Ferguson. Ay. Will I set the lamp near 
your elbow, da ? 

John Ferguson. Ay, son, and reach the Bible to me, 
if you please. (Andrew hands the Bible to him.) 
Thank you, son. 



ACT II 

It is more than an hour later y and it is quite dark outside. 
John Ferguson and his wife and son are sitting at 
the table, eating their supper. " Clutie " John 
McGrath is still seated in the corner of the fireplace. 
He has laid his whistle aside and is engaged in eating 
the supper given to him by Mrs. Ferguson. 

Sarah Ferguson. Hannah's gey and long in getting 
back from Witherow's. 

John Ferguson. Ay. 

Sarah Ferguson. I wonder did she change her mind 
about Jimmy and go to the shop instead of going to 
Witherow's. It's quare him not coming before this! 

Andrew Ferguson. Ah, I don't think she'd do that. 
Hannah's not the sort to change sudden. 

Sarah Ferguson. Well, she changed sudden enough 
the night ! 

Andrew Ferguson. Ah, that was because she was do- 
ing something she didn't want to do. 

Sarah Ferguson. Well, if she hasn't changed her 
mind, and Jimmy comes now, we'll have to give him his 
supper, and then Hannah'll mebbe be here before he goes 
away again. It'll be quare and awkward for us all. 

Andrew Ferguson. Well, sure, you can tell him when 
he comes, and then he'll not be wanting to stop to his 
supper. 

Sarah Ferguson. Och, we'd have to offer the man 
45 



46 John Ferguson 

something to eat anyway! It's only neighbourly to do 
that much. (She turns to *' Clutie " John.) Will you 
have some more tea, " Clutie " ? 

" Clutie " John. Ay, if you please, Mrs. Ferguson. 
It's quare nice tea. I don't often get the like of that any 
place I go. 

Andrew Ferguson. It's a quare thing to me the way 
Jimmy runs after Hannah, and her showing him plain 
enough that she never had any regard for him. 

" Clutie " John. 'Deed, Andrew, there's many a 
thing in the world is quarer nor that. It's a quare thing 
now for a man to be blowing wind into a bit of a pipe 
and it to be making up tunes for him. That's quare if 
you like ! 

Sarah Ferguson. Ah, you're daft about that old whistle 
of yours! (She hands a cup of tea to him.) Here, drink 
up that, and don't talk so much! I suppose I'll have to 
let you sleep in the loft the night? 

" Clutie " John. Sure, that'll be a grand bed for me, 
lying on the hay. 

Sarah Ferguson. I do believe you're not such a fool 
as you make out, " Clutie " ! You've the fine knack of 
getting into people's houses and making them give you 
your meals and a bed v/ithout them meaning to do it ! 

" Clutie " John. I don't try to make them do it, Mrs. 
Ferguson. I just come in the house and sit down. 
That's all I do. 

Sarah Ferguson. Ay, that's all you do. If you did 
any more, they'd mebbe have to keep you for the rest of 
your life! Once you're settled down, it's hard to per- 
suade you to get up again. 

" Clutie " John. You're letting on you're vexed with 



John Ferguson 47 

me, Mrs. Ferguson, but sure I know rightly you're not. 
A woman that has as kind a heart as you have . . . 

Sarah Ferguson. Ah, wheesht with your talk! Will I 
cut another piece for you ? 

" Clutie " John. Ay, if you please! 

[She cuts a piece of bread and gives it to him. 

Andrew Ferguson. I wonder, da, would you be will- 
ing to go up to Belfast to live? I think I could mebbe 
get a place in a linen office there, and I daresay Hannah 
might get work in a wareroom or a shop. Between the 
two of us, we could keep my ma and you rightly. 

John Ferguson. I'd be as willing to go there as any- 
where, son, if I have to quit out of this. 

Andrew Ferguson. When I was thinking of going 
into the ministry, I got acquainted with a young fellow 
named M'Kinstry that was very well connected. His da 
kept a linen mill in Belfast, and I daresay he'd be willing 
to put a word in for me if I was to ask him. 

John Ferguson. Ay. 

Andrew Ferguson. I think I'll go up to Belfast on 
Saturday and see young M'Kinstry. I'll write a letter to 
him the night to tell him I'm coming, and I'll just let him 
know the position of things so that he can tell his da 
about me. 

Sarah Ferguson (to Andrew), Will I pour you out 
a wee drop more tea, son ? 

Andrew Ferguson. Thank you, ma! 

[She takes his cup and fills it, and then passes 
it back to him. 

John Ferguson. Who knows but my health will be 
better in Belfast nor it has been here? I'm not sure, 
when I think of it, but the mists that lie on the hills at 



48 John Ferguson 

night are bad for me. They say there's a fine air in 
Belfast blowing up the Lough from the sea. 

[There is a knock at the door. 

Sarah Ferguson. There's some one at the door now. 
It'll either be Hannah or Jimmy. " Clutie " John, away 
and open it, will you? 

[" Clutie " John goes to the door and opens 
it. James Caesar steps in. The as- 
sured manner which he assumed when 
Hannah accepted him has become more 
pronounced. 

James Caesar. I'm later nor I expected to be. {He 
turns to " Clutie.") Here, " Clutie," help me off with 
my coat, will you? (" Clutie " John helps him to take 
off his overcoat.) It's turned a bit cold the night! {To 
" Clutie.") Hang it up there on the rack, " Clutie." 
(" Clutie " does as he is hid, and then goes to his seat by 
the fire.) I thought it would be as well to wear my top- 
coat, for you get quare and damp coming up the loanie in 
the mist! {He goes to the fire and rubs his hands in the 
warmth.) Where's Hannah? 

Sarah Ferguson. She's out, Jimmy! 

James Caesar. Out, is she? It's very late for her to 
be out! She'll have to keep better hours nor this when 
she's married, eh? {His attempt to be jovial falls heavy.) 
Has she not had her supper yet ? 

Sarah Ferguson. No, not yet. We're expecting her in 
every while. 

James Caesar. I hope she'll not be long. I want to 
discuss the wedding with her . . . 

Sarah Ferguson. The wedding! 



John Ferguson 49 

James Caesar. Ay. Sure, there's no sense in our 
waiting long, is there? If people's able to get married, 
they ought to get the ceremony over quick. That's what I 
think, Mrs. Ferguson. Och, listen to me calling you Mrs. 
Ferguson, just like a stranger! I ought to start calling 
you " Ma " to get into the way of it, or would you rather 
I called you "Mother"? 

Sarah Ferguson (nervously). I'm not particular, 
Jimmy. 

James Caesar. Some people's quare and particular 
about a thing like that. They think it's common to say 
" ma " and " da," and they never let their children call 
them anything but " father " and " mother." I knew a 
family once up in Belfast that always called their parents 
" papa " and " mamma." It was quare and conceited of 
them — just as if they were English or anything like that. 

John Ferguson. Jimmy, I want to say something to 
you! 

James Caesar. Ay, John! (Jovially.) I can't start 
calling you " da " or " papa " or anything else but John, 
can I? (To Mrs. Ferguson.) Do you know, I'm near 
dead of the drouth! If you could spare me a wee drop 
of tea ! . . . 

Sarah Ferguson (rising and speaking hurriedly). 
Of course, Jimmy, I will. I don't know what I'm think- 
ing about not to ask you to sit down to your supper. (She 
goes to the dresser for a cup and saucer.) Draw a chair 
up to the table, will you, and sit down! 

James Caesar. Ah, now, I don't want to be putting 
you to any inconvenience. 

Sarah Ferguson. Sure, it's no bother at all. Just 



50 John Ferguson 

come and content yourself. I'm all throughother with the 
ups and downs we've had this day, and my manners is all 
shattered over the head of it. Sit down here. 

James Caesar (taking his place at the table). Thank 
you, ma. 

Sarah Ferguson. Will you have soda-bread or 
wheaten ? 

James Caesar. Wheaten, if you please! 

[Andrew Ferguson rises from the table and 
goes to the side of the fire opposite to that 
on which " Clutie " John is seated. 

Sarah Ferguson. Help yourself to anything you want. 

James Caesar. Thank you! {He bows his head.) 
Thank God for this meal, Amen! {To John Fergu- 
son.) I've been making plans in my head, John, about 
the future of the farm. 

John Ferguson. Jimmy, I want to say something to 
you! . . . 

James Caesar {slightly impatient). Ay, but wait till 
I tell you about my plans! Now, how would it be if you 
were to let the land by itself, and you and the rest of you 
stay on in the house? Me and Hannah '11 be getting 
married in a wee while, and there'll only be the three of 
you left ... 

John Ferguson, Jimmy! . . . 

James Caesar. Now, let me get it all out before I for- 
get any of it. Andrew could mebbe resume his studies 
for the ministry. I might be able to advance him the 
money for it. 

Andrew Ferguson. That's a kindly thought, Jimmy! 

James Caesar. Ah, I've often thought I would like to 
be related to a minister. It looks well to be able to say 



John Ferguson 51 

the Reverend Mr. So-and-So is your brother-in-law, par- 
ticular if he's a well-known man such as you might be 
yourself, Andrew. Or I was thinking if you didn't fancy 
the ministry any more, mebbe you'd come into the shop 
and learn the grocery! The fact is, betwixt ourselves, 
I'm thinking seriously of opening a branch establishment 
over at Ballymaclurg, and if I had you trained under 
me, Andrew, you'd do rightly as the manager of it. 

John Ferguson. Jimmy, I'll never be able to thank 
you sufficient for your kindness . . . 

James Caesar. Ah, don't mention it! Sure, it's a 
pleasure, and anyway it's in the family, you might say 1 I 
wonder what's keeping Hannah ! Where is she at all ? 

John Ferguson. Jimmy . . . Hannah's changed her 
mind! 

James Caesar. Changed her mind! What do you 
mean? 

John Ferguson. She's changed her mind, Jimmy! 

James Caesar {getting up and going to him: the as- 
sured manner has dropped from him). Do you mean she 
doesn't want to marry me no more ? 

John Ferguson. Ay, that's what I mean. 

James Caesar. But! . . . Ah, quit your codding, for 
dear sake! (He goes back to his seat and begins to eat 
again.) You've been letting " Clutie " John put you up 
to this — trying to scare me. I wouldn't wonder but 
Hannah's upstairs all the while, splitting her sides . . . 
(He gets up and goes to the foot of the staircase and calls 
up it.) Hi, Hannah, are you there? 

** Clutie " John. I never put them up to anything, 
Mr. Caesar. It's not my nature to do a thing like 
that. 



52 John Ferguson 

James Caesar (calling up the stairs). Come on down 
out of that, Hannah, and not be tormenting me! 

John Ferguson. She's not there, Jimmy. 

James Caesar (coming back to the table). Are you in 
earnest, John? 

John Ferguson. I am, Jimmy. I'm quare and sorry 
for you . . . 

James Caesar. But she gave her promise to me an 
hour ago! You heard her yourself! 

John Ferguson. I know, but she's changed her mind 
since. 

James Caesar. What's come over her? 

John Ferguson. I can't tell you, Jimmy. She just 
didn't feel that she could go on with the match. It's a 
thing that you can't explain, Jimmy. 

James Caesar. But ... the farm . . . and the mort- 
gage! 

John Ferguson. When I saw the way her mind was 
set, I told her to go up to Witherow's and tell him to 
foreclose ! 

James Caesar. But, man alive! . . . 

John Ferguson. That's the way of it, Jimmy. I'm 
heartsore about it, but it can't be helped, can it? 

James Caesar (angrily). Do you mean to sit there and 
tell me you're going to let her treat me like dirt beneath 
her feet after the way I've offered to help you? 

John Ferguson. I can't force her to do things against 
her will, Jimmy. No good would come of the like of 
that either to her or to you. 

James Caesar. I suppose you never thought of my 
position, John Ferguson? I've told all my neighbours 



John Ferguson 53 

already that Hannah and me are to be married, and now 
111 have to tell them that she won't have me ! 

Andrev^^ Ferguson. My da can't help it, can he, if 
Hannah doesn't want to marry you? 

James Caesar. What'll Witherow say when he hears 
about it? My God, he'll be the first to know! (He be- 
comes wild with rage as this idea expands in his mind.) 
Had you no consideration at all, the whole pack of you? 
I was willing to cripple myself to get you out of your 
difficulty, and then you turn on me and affront me before 
the man I hate most in the world! That's kindness for 
you! That's the reward a man gets for being neigh- 
bourly ! 

John Ferguson. Ay, you may well complain, Jimmy! 
I'm not denying your right to do so. I'd have spared you 
from this if I could. 

James Caesar. Can't you make her keep her promise 
to me? A man has the right to be respected by his own 
child, and if she doesn't obey you and do what you tell 
her, you should make her. 

Andrew Ferguson. Would you marry a woman that 
doesn't want you ? 

James Caesar (fiercely). I want her, don't I? What 
does it matter to me whether she wants me or not so long 
as I'm married to her? My heart's hungry for her! 
(His ferocity passes into complaint.) Don't I know 
rightly she doesn't want me? But what does that matter 
to me? I've loved her since she was a wee child, and I'd 
be happy with her if she was never to give me a kind look. 
Many and many a time, when the shop was closed, I went 
and sat out there in the fields and imagined her and me 



54 John Ferguson 

married together and living happy, us with two or three 
wee children, and them growing up fine and strong. I 
could see her them times walking about in a fine silk 
dress, and looking grand on it, and all the neighbours 
nudging each other and saying the fine woman she was 
and the well we must be getting on in the world for her to 
be able to dress herself that nice! I could hardly bear it 
when I used to meet her afterwards, and she hadn't 
hardly a civil word for me; but I couldn't keep out of 
her way for all that; and many's a time I run quick and 
dodged round corners so's I should meet her again and 
have the pleasure of looking at her. When she said she'd 
have me, I could feel big lumps rolling off me, and I was 
light-hearted and happy for all I knew she was only con- 
senting to have me to save your farm, John. I had my 
heart's desire, and I never felt so like a man before! . . . 
And now ! . . . 

[He rests his head on the table and begins 
to sob. 

Sarah Ferguson (in anguish). I can't bear to see a 
man crying! (She goes to Jimmy.) Quit, Jimmy, son! 
It'll mebbe be all right in the end. Don't disturb yourself 
so much, man ! 

Andrev^^ Ferguson (contemptuously). There's no 
sense in going on that way ! 

John Ferguson. Don't speak to him, Andrew ! Leave 
the man to his grief ! 

James Caesar (looking up, and addressing Andrew). 
I know rightly I'm making a poor show of myself, but I 
can't help it. Wouldn't anybody that's had the life that 
I've had do the same as me? You're right and fine, 
Andrew, and full of your talk, but wait till you've had to 



John Ferguson 55 

bear what I have, and you'll see then what you'll do when 
something good that you've longed for all your life comes 
to you and then is taken from you. {He rises from the 
table, trying to recover himself and speak in an ordinary 
voice.) I'm sorry I bothered you all! I'll not trouble 
you with my company any longer. It'll be better for me 
to be going nor to be here when she comes back. {He 
moves towards the door,) I said some harsh words to 
you, John! . . . 

John Ferguson. I'm not minding them, Jimmy. I 
know well the state you're in. 

James Caesar. I'm sorry I said them to you, all the 
same. It was in anger I said them . . . 

[" Clutie " John starts up from his seat in 
the corner, and holds up his hand for 
silence. 
" Clutie " John. Wheesht! 
Sarah Ferguson. What is it, " Clutie " ? 
" Clutie " John. Wheesht, wheesht! 

[He goes to the door and opens, while the 

others stand staring at him. He listens 

for a moment or two, and then he darts 

swiftly into the darkness. 

Sarah Ferguson. In the name of God, what ails the 

fellow ? 

Andrew Ferguson {going to the door). He's heard 
something. 

Sarah Ferguson {drawing a blind and peering out). 
Oh, what is it? 

Andrew Ferguson {looking out). I can't see any- 
thing . . . Wait! {He pauses a moment.) There's 
some one coming up the " loanie." I hear steps . . . 



56 John Ferguson 

James Caesar {coming to his side and listening). It's 
some one running! 

Andrew Ferguson. Ay! . . . It's Hannah! {He 
shouts to his sister.) What ails you, Hannah? 
James Caesar. I hope nothing's happened to her. 
Sarah Ferguson. She must have been scared or some- 
thing. 

[She goes to the door and stands beside 
Caesar. Andrew Ferguson is heard 
outside speaking inquiries to his sister. 
Then Caesar and Mrs. Ferguson come 
away from the door into the kitchen, and 
Hannah, in a state of terrible agitation, 
appears in the doorway. She pauses 
wildly for a moment, glancing round the 
room without seeing anything because of 
the sudden change from darkness to light. 
Sarah Ferguson. Hannah, what ails you, dear? 

[Hannah goes quickly to her father and 
throws herself against his knees. 
Hannah Ferguson. Da, da ! 
John Ferguson. What is it, daughter ? What is it i^ 

[Andrew Ferguson, followed by " Clutie " 
John, returns to the kitchen. He closes 
the door. 
Andrew Ferguson. What ails her? Has she hurt 
herself ? 

John Ferguson. Hannah! {He tries to lift her face 
to his, but she resists him.) Hannah, what is it? Tell 
me, daughter! 

Hannah Ferguson {brokenly). Da, da, I can't! . . . 
John Ferguson. You can't what, Hannah? 



John Ferguson 57 

Hannah Ferguson. It's . . . it's fearful, da! 

James Caesar. Has any one harmed her? Hannah, 
has any one harmed you ? ( To John Ferguson. ) She 
was at Witherow's, wasn't she? {Turning to the others.) 
That's where she was — at Witherow's ! ( To Hannah. ) 
Hannah, do you hear me, girl? Has any one harmed 
you? Was it Witherow? 

Hannah Ferguson. I can't . . . can't . . . 

James Caesar. You must tell us. {Looking wildly 
about him.) My God, I'll go mad if any harm's hap- 
pened to her ! 

Andrew Ferguson {taking hold of his arm and lead- 
ing him away from Hannah). Quieten yourself, Jimmy. 
She'll tell us in a minute when she's herself again. 

John Ferguson. Hannah, dear! Come closer to me, 
daughter! {He lifts her head from his knees and draws 
her up so that her face rests against his. ) Just keep quiet, 
daughter! No one '11 harm you here. Keep quite quiet! 
{To James Caesar.) She was always a wee bit afeard 
of the dark, for she has a great imagination, and she 
mebbe thought she saw something fearful in the night. 
Get her a wee sup of sweet milk, one of you! (Mrs. 
Ferguson goes to get the milk for her.) It's mebbe 
nothing but fright. I've seen her as startled as this once 
before when she was a child. (Hannah gives a great 
sob, and starts a little.) There, daughter, you needn't be 
scared! You're safe here from any harm. (Mrs. Fer- 
guson brings a cup of milk to him.) Thank you, Sarah! 
Here, Hannah, drink a wee sup of this! It'll do you 
good! 

Hannah Ferguson {clinging closer to him). No, da, 
no! 



58 John Ferguson 

John Ferguson. Ay, daughter, it'll help to steady you ! 
{He puts the cup to her lips, and she drinks some of the 
milk.) That's right! That's right! You'll have a wee 
drop more, now! {She averts her head.) Ay, daughter, 
just have some more, and then you'll mebbe be quieter in 
yourself. {He compels her to drink some more of the 
milk, and then he puts the cup away.) That'll do you a 
power of good! {He draws her head down to his breast.) 
Just rest your head on me, daughter, and keep still ! 

" Clutie " John. She was crying bitter out there. She 
was running up the " loanie " when I found her, and she 
let a screech out of her when I touched her arm, and then 
she run that hard I couldn't keep pace with her. It must 
have been a fearful thing that scared her that way! 

Sarah Ferguson. I hope to my goodness it's no more 
sorrow for us. We've had more nor our share already. 

John Ferguson. Wheesht, wheesht, woman. Wheesht ! 

James Caesar. If Witherow's harmed her, I'll kill him. 
I will, so help me, God ! 

John Ferguson. Quit, quit! {To Hannah.) Are 
you better now, Hannah? {She still sobs a little, but her 
agitation has subsided, and she is now able to speak more 
or less coherently.) Just tell me, daughter. What hap- 
pened you ? 

Hannah Ferguson. Da, I'm ashamed! . . . 

John Ferguson. Ashamed, daughter! 

Sarah Ferguson. She said she was ashamed! Oh, 
my God! 

John Ferguson. What are you ashamed of, daughter ? 

Hannah Ferguson. I . . . {She relapses.) I can't 
tell you, da, I can't tell you ! 

James Caesar. Was it Witherow, Hannah ? 



John Ferguson 59 

John Ferguson. Don't bother her, Jimmy? 

James Caesar. I know it was Witherow, I know it was 
him! 

John Ferguson. Hannah! Look up, daughter! 

Hannah Ferguson. Yes, da ! 

John Ferguson. Tell me about it! 

Hannah Ferguson (making an effort to control her- 
self, now and then she speaks brokenly.) I went up to 
Witherow's farm, the way you told me, and there were two 
people waiting to talk to him. 

John Ferguson. Ay. 

Hannah Ferguson. He kept me waiting till after he 
had done with them. I told him we couldn't pay the 
money and he was to foreclose, and then he begun laugh- 
ing at me and making a mock of ... of Jimmy . . . 

[She looks up and sees Caesar and hesitates 
to finish her sentence. 

James Caesar. Was it me he made a mock of? {To 
John Ferguson.) Ah, didn't I tell you what he would 
do? Didn't I, now? {He turns to the others.) Didn't 
I, Mrs. Ferguson ? . . . 

John Ferguson. Go on, daughter! 

Hannah Ferguson. He said he supposed it couldn't 
be helped, and I was just coming away when he said he 
would walk the length of the " loanie " with me, and I 
waited for him. {Her voice grows feeble.) We were 
walking along, talking about one thing and another . . . 

John Ferguson {nervously). Ay, ay! 

Hannah Ferguson. And he begun telling me what a 
fine girl I am, and wishing he could kiss me ! . . . 

James Caesar. God starve him ! 

Hannah Ferguson. And then he tried to kiss me, but 



6o John Ferguson 

I wouldn't let him. We were going over Musgrave's 
meadow together, and all of a sudden he put his arms 
round me and threw me down! . . . Oh, da, da! 

[Her grief overcomes her again, and she buries 
her head against his breast and is unable 
to speak further. 
James Caesar. What did she say, John ? What was it 
she said? 

John Ferguson (brokenly). I can't speak, Jimmy — 
I can't speak. Hannah, dear! [He tries to comfort her. 
James Caesar. Did he wrong her? That's what I 
want to know ! 

Sarah Ferguson. Oh, will we never have comfort in 
the world ! John, does she mean that he harmed her . . . 
harmed her? {Wildly to the others.) One of you do 
something ! Andrew ! Jimmy ! ! 

James Caesar. I've swore many's a time to have his 
life and never done it. I was a poor, trembling creature, 
but I'll tremble no more! (He goes to the door.) Good- 
night to you all ! 

John Ferguson. Where are you going, Jimmy? 

James Caesar. I'm going — somewhere! 

John Ferguson. Sit down, Jimmy . . . 

James Caesar. It's no good you talking to me, John ! 

[He opens the door violently and goes out. 
John Ferguson. Andrew, go after him and bring him 
back. There's enough harm done already. Go and stop 
him, son ! 

[Andrew goes unwittingly to the door. He 
stands there looking up the dark 
" loanie.'' 
Andrew Ferguson. I can't see him! 



John Ferguson 6i 

John Ferguson. You must be able to see him. He 
can't be that far! Go after him, man, and bring him back 
here. 

Andrew Ferguson. No, da, I won't. {He shuts the 
door and returns to his seat. ) The man has a right to be 
left to himself. 

John Ferguson. Andrew! (Tie tries to get up from 
his chair, hut Hannah's weight prevents him.) Here, 
Sarah, take Hannah and put her to bed. Get up, 
daughter! 

Hannah Ferguson {clinging to him). Da, da! 
John Ferguson. Ay, daughter, ay! God's scourged 
us hard, and it isn't easy to bear. We must just . . . 
just try and be patient. {Kissing her.) Go to your ma, 
dear, and let her take care of you ! 

Sarah Ferguson. Come to your bed, Hannah! 

[Hannah's anguish unbalances her, and she 

becomes hysterical, and stands clinging to 

her father and weeping bitterly. 

John Ferguson {comforting her). You must control 

yourself, daughter. Go with your ma, now, like a good 

girl. Take her, Sarah ! 

[Mrs. Ferguson leads her daughter towards 
the stairs. They go out. 

Andrew Ferguson. I hope Jimmy'll kill him. 

John Ferguson {weakly). Son, son, don't talk that 
way! 

Andrew Ferguson. I can't help it, da. He ought to 
be killed. He's not fit to live. 

John Ferguson. 'Are you setting yourself up to judge 
God's work ?. 



62 John Ferguson 

Andrew Ferguson. An eye for an eye, da, and a tooth 
for a tooth ! 

John Ferguson. That's not the spirit that lives now, 
son! That's the spirit that was destroyed on the Cross. 
If a man does an injury to you, and you injure him back, 
you're as bad as he is. You have your own work to do 
in the world, and you must leave God to do His; it's His 
work to judge, not ours! (His utterance exhausts him a 
little, and he staggers back into his chair. His voice 
changes to a pleading note.) Ah, Andrew, son, don't 
never talk that way again ! I meant you for the ministry, 
to teach people how to live for God! You can't go into 
the ministry now, son, but you can teach people just the 
same. Just the same! I would rather you were dead 
nor hear you speak about Jimmy Caesar the way you're 
doing . . . {He gets up from his chair and goes to his 
son, taking him by the shoulder.) Will you not go out 
and look for him, son? He has suffered enough, poor 
man, without him damning his soul ! 

Andrew Ferguson. He can bear God's strokes as well 
as we can ! 

John Ferguson. Your heart's bitter, son! I wish I 
could go! {He staggers towards the door.) I haven't the 
strength I used to have . . . Andrew, will you not do as I 
bid you? 

Andrew Ferguson. No, da, I won't interfere between 
them. 

John Ferguson. I must go myself, then. I must try 
and find him . . . 

[Mrs. Ferguson comes down the stairs into 
the kitchen. 

Sarah Ferguson. John! 



John Ferguson 63 

John Ferguson. Ay, woman ! 

Sarah Ferguson. Hannah wants you. She'll not be 
quiet without you near her. 

John Ferguson. I can't go up to her yet, Sarah. I'm 
going out to look for Jimmy Caesar. I can't let him be 
wandering about wild in the night. If he finds Witherow 
he'll mebbe do him an injury. {He turns towards the 
door again.) Andrew won't go, so I must. I can't let 
the man destroy himself. 

Sarah Ferguson. What way's that to be talking and 
you the sick you are? Is it your death you're wanting? 
And no coat on or nothing. {To her son.) Andrew, 
think shame of yourself to be letting your da go out in the 
dark and damp ! ( To her husband. ) You must come to 
Hannah. She won't keep still without you! {To 
Andrew.) You go and look for Jimmy, Andrew. The 
poor creature's near distracted mad, and dear knows in 
that state he might do something fearful. 

Andrew Ferguson {sullenly). I'm not going, ma. 
I've told my da that already. 

Sarah Ferguson. Ah, aren't you headstrong? {To 
her husband.) Come up to Hannah first, John! 

John Ferguson. She must wait till I come back. It's 
Jimmy Caesar that's in the greatest danger now. I'll 
come to her when I get back, tell her ! 

Sarah Ferguson. You'll rue this night, the pair of 
you, but you must have your own way, I suppose ! 

John Ferguson. Give me my coat, woman! (Mrs. 
Ferguson goes to get his coat for him.) Andrew, will 
you not come with me and help me to find him? 

Andrew Ferguson. I'll not budge out of the door, da. 
I wouldn't lift a finger to stop him from doing anything 



64 John Ferguson 

he wants to do. (Mrs. Ferguson returns to the kitchen 
carrying a jacket, a topcoat, and a muffler. ) It's no busi- 
ness of mine to interfere between them. 

Sarah Ferguson (helping her husband into his coat). 
Muffle yourself up well, John. It's cold the night. 

John Ferguson. Ay, Sarah, thank you. 

[He puts the muffler round his throat. 

Andrew Ferguson. I only hope Jimmy'll have the 
manhood to kill Witherow! 

John Ferguson {in pain). Wheesht, wheesht, son! 
Wheesht, adear! {He recovers himself, and turns to his 
wife.) Tell Hannah where I'm gone, Sarah! That'll 
mebbe keep her quiet till I get back! {He opens the 
door.) I'll come as soon as I can! 

[He goes out, closing the door behind him. 

Sarah Ferguson. It'll kill him, this night's work! 
Andrew, how can you stand there and see your da going 
out in the wet and dark, and you knowing well the sick 
and feeble he is ! 

Andrew Ferguson. I can't stop him from going, 
can I? 

Sarah Ferguson. You could have gone yourself. 

Andrew Ferguson {turning to hef and speaking 
fiercely). I tell you I don't want to stop Jimmy from kill- 
ing Witherow if he's going to do it. It's right that he 
should kill him. The man's bad from head to foot. 
Everything about him shows that! It isn't only the way 
he's treated us, but others too. You've told me yourself 
many's a time, and my da's told me too, of the cuts and 
insults Jimmy's had to bear from him ! Isn't this greater 
nor the lot of them put together? Hasn't Jimmy a right 
to turn on him now if he never had the right before? I 



John Ferguson 65 

don't care what my da says ! Jimmy has the right to turn 
on him and kill him if he can. 

Sarah Ferguson {bewildered by the catastrophe in 
which she is involved). I'm all moidhered by it. I don't 
understand what's happening. Your da says it's the will 
of God, but I ... I can't make it out . . . {She goes 
towards the stairs.) I'll mebbe not come down again, 
Andrew. Good-night, son! 

Andrew Ferguson. Good-night, ma ! 

[Mrs. Ferguson goes upstairs. Andrew 
walks across the room and opens the door. 
He looks out for a moment or two. Then 
he shuts the door and walks back to the 
fireplace. 
" Clutie " John. Your da's a forgiving man, Andrew! 
Andrew Ferguson {absently). Eh? 
" Clutie " John. I say, your da's a forgiving man ! 
Andrew Ferguson {carelessly). Oh, ay. Ay! 

[He walks across the room and back again. 
" Clutie " John. You're not a forgiving man, are you, 
Andrew ? 

[Andrew sits down at the table, with his face 
to the audience. He does not reply to 
" Clutie " John. 
" Clutie " John. You're not a forgiving man, are you, 
Andrew? {He gets up and comes to the table.) You 
wouldn't forgive till seventy times seven, would you? 
Andrew Ferguson {impatiently). Ah, quit! 
" Clutie " John. Your da has a quare good nature. 
He always says you should turn the other cheek to the 
man that harms you. That's a great spirit to have, that, 
isn't it? 



66 John Ferguson 

Andrew Ferguson {who has not been listening). Eh? 
What's that you say? 

" Clutie " John. I was talking about your da, An- 
drew, and him having the great fine spirit of forgiveness 
in him. 

Andrew Ferguson (indifferently). Oh, ay! Ay! 

" Clutie " John. I could never be as forgiving as your 
da if I lived to be a thousand years old. (He pauses for a 
moment, and then says eagerly.) Will I play something 
to you? (Andrew does not make any movement.) Are 
you not listening to me ? 

Andrew Ferguson (crossly). Ah, what is it? What's 
the matter with you ? 

" Clutie " John. Will I not play something to you? 
It's a great comfort when you're in trouble to hear a man 
playing a tune . . . 

Andrew Ferguson (sharply). Quit blethering! 

" Clutie " John (going back to his seat at the fire). I 
was only wondering could I do anything to please you, 
Andrew? But I'll keep still and quiet. I'll not disturb 
you at all. [ They sit in silence for a few moments. 

" Clutie " John. He's a bad man, that man Witherow! 
That's what he is 1 He has a sour nature in him. When- 
ever he meets me he makes a mock of me and says, " When 
are they going to put you in the asylum, 'Clutie'?" 
Sometimes he hits me with his stick or a whip mebbe. 
He done that the day there foment your own door, An- 
drew! He couped me into the hedge and near broke my 
whistle on me. That shows the bad-natured man he is to 
be hurting a poor fellow like myself that has to beg his 
bread from door to door ! 

Andrew Ferguson. Hold your tongue, will you ? 



John Ferguson 67 

" Clutie " John (meekly). All right, Andrew! I 
was only saying what he done to me, but, sure, it doesn't 
matter what he does to the like of me, a poor senseless 
fellow that wanders the world with a whistle! It's quare 
and different, Andrew, when he does harm to a girl like 
Hannah . . . 

Andrew Ferguson (turning to him and speaking 
quickly). Ay, it is different, "Clutie"! You're right 
there. My sister is the finest girl in the County 
Down . . . 

" Clutie " John (eagerly). Ay, she is, Andrew. She 
is in sang. There isn't her equal in the province of 
Ulster. There is not. I've oftentimes heard people talk- 
ing about her, and saying what a fine match she'll make 
for some man, and one time I tried to make up a song 
about her to be singing on the roads, but I couldn't do it 
with any satisfaction to myself. I'm no hand at making 
up poetry. She's a fine young girl and a great com- 
panion she'll be to any one. 

ANDREVi^ Ferguson. It's only a fine man that's fit for 
her. 

"Clutie" John. That's true! (He gets up and 
comes to the table and leans across it.) It would never 
have done if she'd married Jimmy Caesar. The 
mountains can never consort with the hills. 

Andrew Ferguson. No ! No ! ! I wasn't best pleased 
about the match when I heard of it. 

" Clutie " John. He's not much of a man, Jimmy 
Caesar ! 

Andrew Ferguson. No, he isn't, indeed! 

" Clutie " John. He's a poor-natured man, that's 
what he is. He'd be worse nor Witherow if he had the 



68 John Ferguson 

pluck. Mebbe he is worse nor him, for he has no pluck 
at all. He's a mean man. 

Andrew Ferguson. I daresay youVe right. 

[He goes to the fire and stands with his back 
to it. 

" Clutie " John. Ay, I am. He'd beat you on the 
ground that lad would, but he would run away from you if 
you were to stand up to him. That's the kind he is. 

Andrew Ferguson. Ah, well, he's had a poor life of it. 

" Clutie " John. He'd have been mean-natured what- 
ever kind of a life he had, Andrew! I've seen men like 
him before in my time. They think I'm a fool and see 
nothing, but when I'm playing my whistle, Andrew, I see 
them when they're not thinking I'm looking at them — 
and there's plenty of them, high up and low down, that are 
crawling when they're at your feet and are ready to crawl 
when they're standing up. That's the way of them. A 
man like Jimmy Caesar would be a poor defender for 
Hannah! 

Andrew Ferguson. Mebbe he would ! 

" Clutie " John. I'd be afeard to trust myself to him 
if I was in need of a person to take care of me. I would 
so. 

Andrew Ferguson. Ah, you can take care of yourself ! 
Quit talking now, or if you can't keep quiet, go out to the 
hayloft and talk to yourself. 

[He goes half-way across the room and then 
returns to the fire. He stands with his 
face to it. 

" Clutie " John (after a pause). I wonder will Jimmy 
Caesar kill Witherow ! 

Andrew Ferguson. What makes you wonder that ? 



John Ferguson 69 

" Clutie " John. I was just wondering! {He turns 
towards the door.) I'd better be going to my bed. It 
was kind of your ma to give me leave to sleep in the loft. 
It'll be nice and comfortable to stretch myself out on the 
hay. 

Andrew Ferguson. Ay. Good-night. 

" Clutie " John. Good-night to you, Andrew. {He 
looks hack to his seat.) Ah, dear bless us, I was near 
forgetting my whistle! {He goes to his seat and picks up 
the whistle.) It's not a great deal to look at, but it can 
play a grand tune! {He puts it in his pocket.) I 
wouldn't be surprised but Caesar doesn't do it! 

Andrew Ferguson {abstractedly). Doesn't do what? 

" Clutie " John. Kill Witherow. 

Andrew Ferguson. What makes you think that ? 

" Clutie " John. It's the way of him to be talking and 
not doing. 

Andrew Ferguson. Ah, man, but this is different. 

" Clutie " John. You can't help your nature, Andrew. 
No one can. Jimmy Caesar's always been afeard of 
Henry Witherow and it's likely he always will be. He 
can't help it, God be good to him ! 

Andrew Ferguson {thinking this over for a second, 
and then turning away contemptuously). Ah, you don't 
know what you're talking about ! 

"Clutie" John. No. No, Andrew, that's true! I 
have no sense in my head at all. I've oftentimes been 
told that. Good-night again to you, Andrew ! 

Andrew Ferguson. Good-night! 

"Clutie" John {before he reaches the door). Mind 
you, Jimmy Caesar'll mean to kill him! I daresay he 
will. And mebbe he would have killed him if he had 



70 John Ferguson 

been standing foment him that minute, with his back 
turned, but ... he had to go out and find him, Andrew ! 
It's a good step from here to Witherow's farm, and he had 
to get a gun ... or something. You have time to think 
when you're going that length. 

Andrew Ferguson. Ay. 

" Clutie " John. I wouldn't doubt but he went 
home. I daresay he's lying huddled up in his bed this 
minute, Andrew, and your poor old da hunting for him 
in the dark, and your sister up there weeping her eyes 
out . . . 

Andrew Ferguson. Ah, quit, man, quit! You're tor- 
menting me with your talk. 

" Clutie " John. A fine girl like Hannah to be de- 
pending on Jimmy Caesar for a man . . . 

Andrew Ferguson. Go on with you, go on ! 

" Clutie " John. And him mebbe at home all the time, 
snuggled up in his bed ! 

Andrew Ferguson. What do you mean, "Clutie"? 
What are you trying to prove ? 

"Clutie" John. Prove! Me? Sure, I couldn't 
prove anything if I was paid to do it. I'm no hand at 
proving things. That's why I haven't got any sense. 

Andrew Ferguson (going to him and taking hold of 
his shoulder). What's all this talk about Jimmy Caesar 
mean ? You have some meaning in your mind ! 

" Clutie " John. I wish I had, but sure I'll never be 
right, never. I'll always be quare. 

Andrew Ferguson (turning away from him in dis- 
gust). Och, away with you! (He goes back to the fire, 
standing with his face to it.) You have as much talk as 
Jimmy Caesar himself! 



John Ferguson 71 

[" Cluhe " John stands still for a few mo- 
ments. Then he steps lightly across the 
floor to where Andrew is sitting and taps 
him on the shoulder. 

" Clutte " John. Andrew! 

Andrew Ferguson. What ails you now ? 

" Clutie " John. Supposing Jimmy Caesar doesn't 
kill Witherow? 

Andrew Ferguson. Well? Well, well? 

"Clutie" John. That 'ud be fearful, wouldn't it? 
Can't you picture Witherow sitting up there in his hungry 
house laughing to himself . . . 

Andrew Ferguson. My God, " Clutie "! 

" Clutie " John. And mebbe saying he'll look out for 
Hannah again! 

Andrew Ferguson. Aw, my God, my God ! 

" Clutie " John. And making a mock of Jimmy 
Caesar, the way he always does, and calling him an old 
Jenny- Jo that'll stand by and let another man do harm to 
his girl . . . 

Andrew Ferguson. Ah, wheesht with you, wheesht! 

"Clutie" John. And telling people about it! Ay, 
telling people about it! You can see him with his great 
jaw hanging down and him roaring with laughter and 
telling them all in Jefferson's public-house on the fair-day ! 

Andrew Ferguson. Ay, indeed, that's what he'd do! 

" Clutie " John. That's what he done over the head 
of Martha Foley that had the child to him. Didn't I 
hear him myself, telling them all about it, and them 
splitting their sides and calling him the great lad and the 
gallous boy and the terrible man for women? . . . And 
then mebbe him to be telling them how your da, that's 



72 John Ferguson 

near his death, went out to try and stop Jimmy from 
killing him, and all the while your da was tumbling over 
the dark fields Jimmy was lying trembling with fright in 
his bed, afeard to move . . . 

Andrew Ferguson. He'd never be such a collie as that, 
" Clutie." He couldn't for shame. 

" Clutie " John (coming nearer to him). If I was 
Hannah's brother I'd make sure! 

Andrew Ferguson. Make sure ! What do you mean ? 

" Clutie " John. Ah, what do I mean? Sure, I don't 
know what I'm saying half my time! I'm all through- 
other. I don't know what I mean, Andrew; I don't know. 
God reward you, and I'll bid you good-night. I'll go up 
to the loft and play a while to myself. Sure, I'll disturb 
no one there but the cows mebbe in the byre, and God 
knows the poor beasts '11 not complain if a poor fellow like 
myself has a small diversion. And when I lie down and 
stretch myself in the hay, I can be thinking, mebbe Jimmy 
Caesar is lying in a fine warm bed, and be pitying your 
da that's out looking for him, and be cursing Henry 
Witherow that's mebbe laughing now and making up great 
stories to be telling on the fair-day . . . 

Andrew Ferguson. Are you trying to drive me de- 
mented ? 

"Clutie" John. Wheesht, wheesht! 

[Mrs. Ferguson comes down the stairs. 

Sarah Ferguson. Will you not keep quiet, the pair of 
you? I'm trying hard to get Hannah asleep, but the 
clatter you're making would wake the dead! Is your da 
not back yet, Andrew? 

Andrew Ferguson. No, ma, not yet! 

Sarah Ferguson (picking up Jimmy Caesar's coat). 



John Ferguson 73 

Dear bless us, Jimmy left his coat behind him. He'll be 
sure to get his death of cold, for he always had a delicate 
chest. {She puts the coat aside.) I wish you'd go and 
find your da, Andrew, and bring him home. It's no time 
of the night for him to be wandering about in the cold air. 
Hannah '11 never rest without him near her. Will you not 
go now and find him, son? 

Andrew Ferguson. All right, ma ! 

Sarah Ferguson. That's a good son. Tell him to 
come home as quick as he can. " Clutie " John'll stay 
here while you look for him. {She listens for a moment.) 
That's Hannah crying again! I can't leave her for a 
minute but she begins lamenting . . . 

[She goes hurriedly upstairs again. Andrew 
goes to the door and looks out. He is 
followed by " Clutie " John. 

" Clutie " John. Look, Andrew, there's a light in 
Witherow's window. Do you see it over there on the 
side of the hill? It shines down the valley a long way. 
Do you see it, Andrew ? 

Andrew Ferguson. Ay. 

" Clutie " John. It doesn't look as if Jimmy'd got 
there, does it? The light's still shining. 

Andrew Ferguson. He might be there for all that. 

"Clutie" John. Mebbe! Ay, mebbe! Well, I'll 
away on now to my bed. The night's turned sharp, and I 
feel tired and sleepy. {He stands in the doorway, gazing 
up at the sky.) There's a lot of wee stars out the night, 
Andrew, but no moon. 

Andrew Ferguson. Ay. 

" Clutie " John. I oftentimes think it must be quare 
and lonely up in the sky. Good-night to you, Andrew! 



74 John Ferguson 

Andrew Ferguson. Good-night, " Clutie." 

[" Clutie " John goes out. Andrew Fer- 
guson stands still, watching the light 
in WiTHEROw's window. Then a great 
anger goes over him. He mutters some- 
thing to himself, and turns suddenly into 
the kitchen. He takes down the gun and, 
after examining it to see if it is loaded, 
he goes out. In a few moments Sarah 
Ferguson is heard calling to him from 
the top of the stairs. 
Sarah Ferguson. Andrew! Andrew!! Are you 
there? (She comes down part of the staircase and looks 
over the banisters.) Are you there, Andrew? " Clutie "! 
(She comes into the kitchen and looks about her.) 
" Clutie "! (She goes to the foot of the stairs and calls 
up to Hannah.) It's all right, Hannah, dear! An- 
drew's away to fetch your da ! 

[She goes to the door and looks out for a few 
moments. Then she closes the door and 
goes up the stairs again. 



ACT III 

It is early in the morning of the following day. The room 
is bright and cheery because a fine sunshine pours in 
at the window and open door. There is nothing in 
the appearance of the kitchen to indicate that any un- 
usual thing has happened; the gun is again suspended 
over the fire-place. Mrs. Ferguson is bending over 
the fire, settling a kettle on the coals and turf, when 
her husband comes into the kitchen from the staircase. 

Sarah Ferguson. Is that you, John? 
John Ferguson. Ay. {He seats himself by the fire.) 
Where's Andrew? 

Sarah Ferguson. He's away out to the byre. Will I 
call him? 
John Ferguson. Ay, do! 

[Mrs. Ferguson goes to the door and calls 
out " Andrew! Andrew!! " Andrew is 
heard to shout, " What do you want, 
ma?" and Mrs. Ferguson replies, 
" Your da wants you a minute! " An- 
drew shouts back, " I'll be in in a wee 
while." Mrs. Ferguson returns to the 
fire. 
Sarah Ferguson. He says he'll be in in a minute! 
Did you get your rest, John ? 

John Ferguson. I couldn't sleep at all! I lay still 
and closed my eyes, but my mind was working all the time. 

75 



76 John Ferguson 

I kept on wondering where Jimmy went to last night. I 
suppose no one has come up the " loanie " with news? 

Sarah Ferguson. There's been no one next or near 
this place this morning but ourselves and " Clutie " John. 
I gave him his breakfast and sent him packing. He was 
in a quare wild mood, that lad, and could hardly contain 
himself for excitement. 

John Ferguson. I daresay he was greatly disturbed in 
his mind after what happened yesterday. Them people is 
quare and easily excited. I wish Andrew would come! 
Is Hannah up yet? 

Sarah Ferguson. Indeed I don't know. I didn't call 
her this morning. She was a long while getting her sleep, 
and so I just let her lie on. She'll be all the better for the 
rest! 

John Ferguson. Ay. I can't make out where Jimmy 
went to last night. I thought mebbe he'd go straight to 
Witherow from here, and so I went there first, but I didn't 
see him. 

Sarah Ferguson. Did you see Witherow? 

John Ferguson. Ay. I warned him about Jimmy. 

Sarah Ferguson. You warned him? 

John Ferguson. Ay. 

Sarah Ferguson. And you never laid a finger on him ? 

John Ferguson. No. 

Sarah Ferguson. Well, indeed, I can't make you out, 
John! There's a man's harmed your daughter, and you 
didn't as much as lift your hand to him! You went and 
warned him about Jimmy! . . . Oh, John, I can't under- 
stand you! It doesn't seem right someway to be acting 
like that! 

John Ferguson. God's Word says I must love my en- 



John Ferguson 77 

emies, Sarah. That is my guide in all I do. It's hard to 
obey that commandment, and when I was standing there 
in front of Witherow I was tempted to take a hold of him 
and do him an injury . . . but I resisted the temptation, 
and I did what God bid me. I wasn't able to love him, 
but I warned him. I could do no more than that . . . 
but God '11 mebbe understand ! 

Sarah Ferguson (sighing). Ah, well! It's a quare 
way to look at things. If any one was to hurt me, I'd do 
my best to hurt them back, and hurt them harder nor they 
hurt me. That would learn them ! 

John Ferguson. Would it? Men's been hitting back 
since the beginning of the world, but hitting back has 
learned no one anything but hatred and bitterness. 

Sarah Ferguson. What did you do after you saw 
Witherow ? 

John Ferguson. I went down to Jimmy's shop, but he 
wasn't there. I dundhered on the door, but I could get 
no answer. Matt Kerr put his head out of his window, 
but he couldn't tell me a thing about Jimmy. I didn't 
know what to do after that ! I wandered about in the dark 
for a while, and then I went back to the shop, but he still 
wasn't there! I was feeling tired, and I sat down for a 
wee while thinking mebbe Jimmy would turn up while I 
was waiting, but he didn't, and so I came home. 

Sarah Ferguson. You might have got your death of 
cold sitting there in the damp. It's a wonder to me you 
never knocked against Andrew ! 

John Ferguson. Ay, it is, but sure it's easy to miss 
people when it isn't light. 

[Andrew^ Ferguson enters by the door. 
There is a sombre look on his face. It 



78 John Ferguson 

is not the darkness of a man who is hor- 
rified by his own deed, but the darkness 
of a man who has set himself willingly 
to do some desperate work that must be 
done. 

Andrew Ferguson. You were wanting me, da? 

John Ferguson. Ay, Andrew! (Regarding his son 
closely.) You're looking tired, son! 

Andrew Ferguson. I am tired, but sure we all are. 
Da, you ought not to have got up this morning. You're 
not strong, and you must nearly be worn out. 

John Ferguson. I couldn't rest, son. Andrew, I want 
you to go and inquire about Jimmy Caesar. I'll not be 
easy in my mind till I see him safe and sound. I feel my 
own responsibility, son. I'll admit to you I was hoping 
Hannah 'd marry him, and I didn't discourage her from 
saying " yes " to him when he asked her, for all I knew 
she was only doing it for the farm. I knew the girl 
couldn't bear him, but I pretended to myself it would all 
come right in the end. I ... I love this house, Andrew ! 
That's the excuse I have for not being honest with Han- 
nah . . . 

Sarah Ferguson. Ah, sure, you left it to her own free 
will. 

John Ferguson. Ay, I tried to salve my conscience 
that way, but I said it in a way that showed plain what my 
desire was. If I had been firm, there would have been 
none of this bother now. You understand me, son, don't 
you? I feel I won't be happy till I see Jimmy safe and 
sound from harm, because I put him in danger. God 
knows what would happen if he was to meet Witherow in 
the temper he was in last night. 



John Ferguson 79 

Andrew Ferguson. I daresay he's all right, da ! 

John Ferguson. I'd be glad if you'd go all the same 
and search for him, Andrew. 

Sarah Ferguson. Just go to please him, Andrew. His 
mind's upset about Jimmy, and there'll be no contenting 
him till he sees him. 

Andrew Ferguson. It'll put the work on the farm 
behind, da . , . 

John Ferguson. That doesn't matter, son. 

Andrew Ferguson. . . . but I'll go to please you! 

John Ferguson. Thank you, son! 

Andrew Ferguson. There's no need for you to be un- 
easy about him, though. You may be sure Jimmy's come 
to no harm. We all know rightly the kind he is. Mebbe 
he's lying snug in his bed this minute, moaning and 
groaning, and saying what he'd do to Witherow one of 
these days, but you know as well as you're living he'll 
never do it. 

John Ferguson. I'd leifer he was a collie a thousand 
times over nor have him take a man's life. 

Andrew Ferguson. Even after what Witherow's done ? 

John Ferguson. Ay, son. Witherow will have to 
make his answer to God, and God will deal justly with 
him. We can't do that. No one can do justice to a man 
that's done an injury to them. We'd be thinking all the 
time of our trouble and wanting revenge. We wouldn't 
be striving hard, the way God would, to understand every- 
thing. 

Andrew Ferguson. There's no need to be striving to 
understand everything, da. It's a plain matter that a 
child can understand. The man done Wiong, and he has 
a right to suffer for it. 



8o John Ferguson 

John Ferguson. Ay, son, he'll suffer for it, but that's 
the work of his Maker, and not the work of Jimmy Caesar 
or you or me or any man. You're wrong, Andrew, when 
you say there's nothing to understand. There's everything 
to understand. There's the man himself to understand. 
Do you think that Jimmy Caesar can judge Henry Withe- 
row when he doesn't know him as God knows him ? 

Andrew Ferguson (impatiently). I've no time or pa- 
tience for that kind of talk. If Jimmy Caesar . . . 
killed him ... he was right to kill him . . . only I don't 
suppose he did. 

John Ferguson. Don't you see now, Andrew, that 
you're not fit to judge Henry Witherow either? You can't 
judge a man if you have anger in your heart against him. 
You must love him before you can do justly by him. 

Andrew Ferguson. Och, quit, da! 

John Ferguson. And that's what God does, Andrew! 
God's something that sees inside you and knows every bit 
of you and never has no spite against you. Do you under- 
stand me, son? He judges you, but He doesn't punish 
you. He just gives knowledge to you so that you see your- 
self as He sees you, and that's your punishment, Andrew, 
if you've done wrong. It's knowing yourself as God 
knows you that hurts you harder nor anything else in the 
world. Do you think Henry Witherow '11 be happy when 
he sees himself with God's eyes ? I wouldn't be that man 
on the last day for the wealth of the world! . . . I'm all 
moidhered, Andrew, and I'm a poor hand at saying what's 
in my mind, but I know well that if Henry Witherow 
wronged me a thousand times more nor he has, I'd be do- 
ing God's will if I knelt down and kissed his feet. 



John Ferguson 8i 

Andrew Ferguson. I don't understand that kind of re- 
ligion. 

Sarah Ferguson. Here's some one coming up the 
" loanie." I can hear their steps. (She goes to the door 
as she speaks.) It's Jimmy! 
John Ferguson. Jimmy Caesar? 
Sarah Ferguson. Ay. 

John Ferguson. Oh, thank God, thank God, he's 
come at last ! 

[James Caesar enters. The look of assur- 
ance has completely gone, and so, too, has 
some of the m'ean:ness. He has the look 
of a man who has suffered great shame 
and humiliation, and although he feels 
mean, he does not look so mean as he did 
at the beginning of the play. 
Sarah Ferguson. Come in, Jimmy, come in! Sure, 
we're all right and glad to see you again ! 

John Ferguson {going to him and wringing his hand). 
Ay, Jimmy, we are, indeed. I'm glad this minute to see 
you safe from harm. Sit down, man! {He leads QAES^Si 
to a chair, and Caesar sits down.) You must be worn 
out. (James Caesar glances about the room for a mo- 
ment. Then he bows his head on the table and begins to 
cry hysterically.) Ay, man, you'll want to cry after the 
trouble you've had. 

Andrew Ferguson {contemptuously). My God, what 
a man! 

John Ferguson. It's the reaction, son, that's what it is. 
He can't help himself. Nobody could. 

Sarah Ferguson. A drink of tea '11 do him a world of 



82 John Ferguson 

good. The kettle's on, and I'll have the tea wet in no 
time at all. {She goes to Caesar and pats him on the 
back.) There, there, Jimmy, keep your heart up! Sure, 
we all know the troubles you've had to bear. Just put 
a good face on it, and you'll be as happy as you like. 

James Caesar. I'm a disgraced man! 

John Ferguson. No, no, no, Jimmy! 

James Caesar (raising his head). Ay, I am, John. 
I'm a disgraced man! I heard what 'Andrew said to you 
a minute ago, and he was right. " My God," he said, 
" what a man! " 

Sarah Ferguson. Ah, sure, Andrew didn't mean it, 
Jimmy. Don't be paying no heed to him. 

Andrew Ferguson (angrily). I did mean it. 

John Ferguson. That's poor comfort, Andrew, to be 
offering to a broken man. I'd be ashamed to say that to 
any one. 

James Caesar (as if eager to make little of himself). 
But it's true, John, for all that. I've failed another time. 

John Ferguson. It was God that checked you, Jimmy. 

John Caesar. I went out of this house last night with 
my mind set on killing Witherow. If I'd met him in the 
" loanie "I'd 'a' throttled him there and then . . . 

John Ferguson. I'm thankful you didn't meet him! 

James Caesar (rambling on). ... 1 was near de- 
mented with rage, and I hardly knew what I was doing. 
I started off for his farm. I could see the light in his 
front room shining down the glen, and it drew me towards 
it. I was that mad I didn't care what I done. I scram- 
bled through the hedges and tore my hands and face with 
the thorns. Look at the cuts on my hands ! 

\He holds out his hands for inspection. 



John Ferguson 83 

John Ferguson. Ay, ay. 

James Caesar. But I didn't care what happened to me. 
I felt nothing but the desire to get Witherow dead. I 
went across the fields, tumbling over stooks of corn, and 
slipping in puddles and drains till I come near the farm, 
and then I remembered I had nothing to kill him with . . . 

Andrew Ferguson (sneering). Ha! 

James Caesar (turning to Andrew). I'm no match for 
him, Andrew, and if I'd gone into the house then, he'd 
have thrown me into the yard before I could have lifted a 
finger to him. (Insisting on his weakness.) I haven't 
the strength, Andrew, and I've a poor spirit. It wouldn't 
have been a fair fight if I'd gone in then and me with no 
weapon, would it, Andrew? Would it, John? I hadn't 
even a sally rod in my hands! 

Sarah Ferguson. He's stronger nor you by a good 
piece, Jimmy. 

James Caesar. Yes, Mrs. Ferguson! That's what I 
said to myself. I said, " I'll have no chance against him 
if I go without a weapon! " That's what I said to myself. 
I made up my mind I'd go back to the shop to get my gun, 
and then I'd come back again to the farm and I'd shoot 
him dead. 

John Ferguson. Aw, horrible, horrible. 

Andrew Ferguson. And why didn't you go back 
again ? 

James Caesar (miserably). You've guessed right, An- 
drew. I never went near the place again. I got to the 
shop and I went in quietly and got the gun, and then I 
come out again. I had hardly got across the doorstep 
when I began to feel afeard, and I could feel the gun 
shaking in my hands as I gripped it. I went a bit of the 



84 John Ferguson 

way along the road, and I kept thinking some one was 
watching me, and then all of a sudden I started to run, and 
I run and I run till I come to the planting. I went in 
among the trees, and before I knew where I was I tripped 
over something on the ground and the gun went off in my 
hands. I was scared of my life for fear any one would 
hear it, and I got up and left the gun on the ground, and 
I run on through the trees like a wild thing till I could run 
no more. Then I crawled in under a whinbush and I hid 
there till this morning. I lay there cursing myself for a 
collie, and trying to stir myself up to go and kill him in 
the daylight ... but I couldn't do it. I kept on making 
excuses. That's the sort of me, John ! I'm always imag- 
ining myself doing grand things, and seeing people clap- 
ping me and making speeches about me, and printing 
things in the papers because of my greatness and my gal- 
lantry; but if a cow was to make a run at me in the fields, 
I'd be near scared to death of it. It's bad enough, An- 
drew, to know that other people are ashamed of you, but 
it's hell to be ashamed of yourself, the way I am this min- 
ute, and it's hell to have dreams of yourself doing big 
things, and you knowing rightly you'll never have the 
pluck to do a wee thing, let alone a big one. 

John Ferguson. There's many a thing that a lad like 
Andrew might think was big, but it's quare and small. 

James Caesar. It's kind of you to talk the way you do, 
John, but it's poor comfort to a man that knows he's as 
poor-spirited as myself. If Hannah was martied on me 
now, I feel I would leave her in the lurch if she needed 
my help any time. That's the way of me, and I knew it 
well last night when I was hiding under the whin-bush. 
I'm not like you, John Ferguson, that has no hatred in 



John Ferguson 85 

your heart, and can forgive a man that does an injury to 
you. I'm full of hate, and I want to hurt them that hurts 
me, but I haven't the courage to do it. 

Andrew^ Ferguson. Well, there's no use in sitting here 
talking about it. 

James Caesar. No, Andrew, there isn't. I come here 
this morning to excuse myself to Hannah and all of you. 
I thought that was the least I could do. 

John Ferguson. No, no, Jimmy, no, no! I*m right 
and glad you didn't harm Witherow. I'd have been sore- 
hearted if you had. 

Sarah Ferguson. He went out to search for you last 
night, Jimmy. 

James Caesar. Who? John? 

Sarah Ferguson. Ay. 

Andrew Ferguson. He searched the place for you. A 
sick man went out to try and prevent a strong, able-bodied 
man from doing what he ought to have done ; and while the 
sick man was wearing himself out with the search, the 
strong man was hiding underneath a whin-bush in mortal 
fear of his life! 

[Andrew's voice grows in anger and con- 
tempt as he speaks. 

James Caesar (miserably). Oh, my God, my God! 

John Ferguson. Wheesht, Andrew, wheesht ! Jimmy, 
man, it's not like the thing for you to give way in that 
fashion! Control yourself, man! I'm as happy this min- 
ute as ever I've been in my life because I know God's 
saved you from sinning your soul with a murder. I'm 
proud to think you wouldn't kill Witherow . . . 

James Caesar {in a misery of self-abasement). But 
I'm not saved from sin, John. I didn't leave Witherow 



86 John Ferguson 

alone because I didn't want to kill hira. I did want to 
kill him. I left him alone because I was afeard to touch 
him. My mind's the same now as it was when I went 
out of this house last night with murder in my heart. I 
want Witherow to be dead. I'd be glad this minute if 
some one come in the door there and told me he was dead. 
But I'd be afeard to lay a finger on him myself. That's 
the cowardliest thing of all, to want to commit a sin and 
not have the courage to do it. Do you think God '11 be 
gratified when he thinks I didn't kill Witherow because I 
was too big a collie to do it? 

Sarah Ferguson. Well, quit talking about it anyway. 
Make yourself content while I get you a bite to eat. 

James Caesar. I couldn't taste it. It 'ud choke me. 

Sarah Ferguson. Now, a drop of tea never choked no 
one. The kettle's boiling, and it'll not take me a minute 
to make a cup of good warm tea for you. You must be 
perished with the cold, and you lying out on the damp 
grass all night. Just content yourself while I spread the 
table. 

[She sets about preparing the meal. 

James Caesar {in whom confession has now grown to 
something like a craving). I know rightly you have con- 
tempt for me, Andrew. (Andrew^ stands at the window 
with his back to the others. He does not answer.) I 
know you have. Anybody would. {To John Fergu- 
son.) Hannah '11 have the quare contempt for me too. 
There'll be plenty will, and they'll be pointing at me and 
making remarks about me. It'll be quare and hard for 
me to hold up my head again after this. It will, in sang. 
{His voice changes its note slightly as he begins to specu- 



John Ferguson 87 

late on his conduct.) , You know, it's quare the way things 
turn out! Yesterday, after Hannah said she'd have me, 
I was having the great notions of myself and her. I im- 
agined myself prospering greatly, and Andrew here doing 
well in the branch I was going to open at Ballymaclurg, 
and then I thought to myself I'd mebbe get made a magis- 
trate . . . 

Andrew Ferguson (scornfully). Ha! Ha, ha! 

James Caesar. Well, Andrew, there's many that's not 
so well reared as myself that are made magistrates this day, 
and can send fellows like " Clutie " John to jail for a 
month and more for being without visible means of sub- 
sistence . . . 

Andrew Ferguson. Ay, indeed, that sort of a job 
would suit you rightly ! You could be doing an injury to 
other people without running any risk yourself! By my 
sang, Jimmy, you ought to be a magistrate! Mebbe if 
you were one now you'd fine Witherow forty shillings for 
what he done to Hannah! (In great fury.) Ah, you 
make me feel sick! I'll go out in the air a while and be 
quit of you. I'm near stifled in here! 

[He goes out violently. 

James Caesar. There you are, John ! That's the kind 
of contempt I'll have to thole from people after this. 
Hannah's tongue is bitterer nor Andrew's, and she'll be 
harder to bear nor him. 

Sarah Ferguson (completing the arrangements for the 
meal). Well, indeed, it's easy enough to bear the weight 
of a person's tongue. You'll come to small harm, Jimmy 
Caesar, if that's all the trouble you have. Sit up, now, 
and take your breakfast 1 



88 John Ferguson 

James Caesar {drawing his chair closer to the table). 
It's kind and thoughtful of you, Mrs. Ferguson, but I've 
no appetite at all. 

Sarah Ferguson. Ah, wheesht with you ! 

James Caesar. I'll only take the tea. 

[He begins to eat his breakfast. 

Sarah Ferguson. Draw up, John, to the table! I 
wonder ought I to call Andrew in or let him have his after 
a wee while. 

John Ferguson (coming to the table). Leave him for 
the present. His mind's disturbed. 

Sarah Ferguson. Very well. {She goes to the foot of 
the stairs.) Hannah! {She pauses, and then calls 
again.) Hannah! 

James Caesar. You're not bringing her down, are you? 

Sarah Ferguson. She has to have her food the same as 
yourself. {She calls again.) Are you up yet, Hannah! 

Hannah Ferguson {upstairs). Ay, ma. 

Sarah Ferguson. Well, come down and have your 
breakfast. [She returns to the table and sits down. 

John Ferguson. Mebbe she'd better have hers upstairs. 

Sarah Ferguson. No, indeed, she won't have it up- 
stairs. There's no good of her sitting up there crying her 
eyes out. The world has to go on just the same as ever, 
no matter what happens. What'll you have, Jimmy? A 
piece of soda or a piece of wheaten farl? I baked the 
soda yesterday. 

James Caesar. Ah, I couldn't touch it. 

Sarah Ferguson {putting bread on his plate). Well, 
just take it on your plate anyway, and if you have a fancy 
for it after a while it'll be convenient to you. John, 
what'll you have? (Hannah descends the stairs.) Ah, 



John Ferguson 89 

is that you at last, Hannah ? Come on here and have your 
breakfast ! Do you see Jimmy Caesar ? 

Hannah Ferguson. Ay, ma. Good-morning, Jimmy! 
[She sits down beside her father. 

James Caesar. Good-morning to you, Hannah. 

John Ferguson {kissing Hannah affectionately). 
How're you, daughter? 

James Caesar. Hannah, I've come here this morning to 
make a confession to you! 

Sarah Ferguson. Well, eat your breakfast first. 

James Caesar. I must tell her, Mrs. Ferguson, before 
I take another bite. Hannah, I went out last night to kill 
Henry Witherow, but when I was getting ready to kill him. 
I got afeard and I run away and hid myself. I come here 
this morning to tell you the poor sort of a man I am. I 
daresay you're thankful you broke your word to me, for 
I'm not much of a support for any woman. 

Hannah Ferguson. I don't want you to make no con- 
fession to me. 

James Caesar. Ah, but I must. Sure, I must tell peo- 
ple the way I feel. That's the only thing that's left to me 
now. Hannah, will you forgive me for not killing With- 
erow? 

Hannah Ferguson. I didn't ask you to kill him. I 
had no call to ask you. 

James Caesar (on whom the mean manner has gradu- 
ally been gaining control). If you're not angry with me, 
Hannah, then I'm glad I didn't do an injury to him. If I 
had killed him, mebbe it would have done no good! I 
daresay your da's right! Sure, if I'd done anything to 
Witherow I'd 'a' been put in jail, and my business that 
I've built up this long while would 'a' been sold on me, 



90 John Ferguson 

and mebbe I'd be hanged, and there'd be no good in that 
at all. I wonder now is it not better to forget and forgive ! 
Of course, if a man does wrong he ought to be made to 
suffer for it. That's only right, and if Witherow was 
brought before the magistrates . . . 

[Hannah gets up suddenly in distress. 

Hannah Ferguson. Oh, quit talking about it, quit 
talking ! 

[She goes to the sofa and< throws herself prone 
on it. 

Sarah Ferguson {going to her). There, there, Han- 
nah, don't be upsetting yourself ! 

[She comforts Hannah. 

James Caesar. That's the way of me again, John! 
I'm always raking things up! I wish now I had killed 
Witherow. There'd be some satisfaction in that! Do 
you think Hannah 'd marry me if I was to ask her again? 
I'd be willing to marry her just the same! {He turns to 
Hannah.) Hi, Hannah, do you hear that? I'm will- 
ing to marry you just the same if you'll have me! Will 
you? 

[Hannah still sobbing, does not reply. 

Sarah Ferguson. Hannah, dear, do you not hear 
Jimmy speaking to you? 

James Caesar {getting up and going to Hannah). 
Listen, Hannah! I was thinking as I was coming along 
that mebbe you'd have a poor opinion of me when you 
heard the way I'd behaved, but mebbe after all things has 
turned out for the best, and if you'll marry me I daresay 
we'll be as happy as any one. {To Mrs. Ferguson.) 
Dear bless us, Mrs. Ferguson, it's quare the way my mind 



John Ferguson 91 

alters every wee minute or so! I think one time I ought 
to have killed Witherow, and then I think another time I 
was right not to kill him, and one minute I'm ashamed of 
myself and another minute I'm near satisfied. ( To Han- 
nah.) Are you listening to me, Hannah? 

John Ferguson. Don't trouble her now, Jimmy! 
Come and finish your breakfast. 

James Caesar. Well, we can discuss it later. {He re- 
turns to the table and begins his meal again.) When I 
come in here this morning I felt as if I could never put 
another bite of food in my mouth, and now I'm eating my 
breakfast as easy as anything. How would you account 
for the like of that, John ? 

John Ferguson. I can account for nothing, Jimmy, 
outside God's will. 

James Caesar {unctuously). Ah, that's true. "God 
moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform." 

[" Clutie " John enters in a state of great 
excitement. 

"Clutie" John. Mr. Ferguson! Mr. Ferguson!! 

Sarah Ferguson {starting up in alarm). Ah, 
" Clutie " John, go 'long with you! You near startled me 
out of my wits! What do you want to come running in 
like that for? Go 'long with you, man! We don't want 
you here the day again! 

" Clutie " John {tensely). I must tell you, I must tell 
you! Mr. Ferguson! . . . {He sees James Caesar.) 
Oh, there's Mr. Caesar ! 

James Caesar. Have you never seen me before, you 
great gumph you, that you're standing there gaping at me 
like that? 



92 John Ferguson 

John Ferguson. What is it, " Clutie "? {To James 
Caesar.) Don't be harsh with him, Jimmy! He's 
greatly upset after what happened yesterday. 

James Caesar. All right! 

[He goes on with his meal. 

" Clutie " John. I've fearful news for you, Mr. Fer- 
guson 1 It's quare Mr. Caesar should be here ! 

James Caesar. What's quare about it? 

" Clutie " John {looking at him in an odd manner). 
Didn't you kill Mr. Witherow ? 

James Caesar {rising in a fury). Quit out of the place, 
damn you . . . 

" Clutie " John {shrinking from Caesar and running 
to John Ferguson). Don't let him strike me, Mr. Fergu- 
son! I'm afeard of my life of him! 

John Ferguson {quietening him). He'll not harm you, 
" Clutie." Sit down somewhere and control yourself! 
And don't be talking about killing anybody! 

" Clutie " John. But he's dead, Mr. Ferguson I 

John Ferguson. Dead ! 

Sarah Ferguson. Who's dead? 

" Clutie " John. Henry Witherow! 

John Ferguson. My God ! 

" Clutie " John. He was found this morning in the 
farmyard shot through the heart. 

John Ferguson. Shot! 

" Clutie " John. Ay, shot he was! The peelers is up 
at the farm now. Sergeant Kernaghan and two constables 
is there . . . 

Sarah Ferguson. Aw, it's not true, it's not true ! The 
poor creature's demented and doesn't know what he's say- 
ing! 



John Ferguson 93 

Hannah Ferguson. " Clutie," are you sure? . . . 

" Clutie " John. Ay, Hannah, I am. Certain sure! 
(To Mrs. Ferguson.) It is true. It is indeed, and 
'deed and doubles! I wouldn't tell you a lie for the 
world. I saw his corpse myself, stretched out in the yard. 
It was quare to think of him lying there, and me could hit 
him if I liked and him couldn't hit back ! 

James Caesar. But . . . but who killed him? 
(John Ferguson turns to look at him, and James 
Caesar sees accusation in his eyes.) I didn't do it, John! 
It wasn't me that killed him! I swear to God it wasn't 
me! I'll take my oath on the Bible! . . , 

John Ferguson. Jimmy! . . . 

James Caesar. I tell you I didn't do it. How do you 
know he's dead? You only have " Clutie " John's word 
for it, and you know rightly he's away in the mind! 

Hannah Ferguson. Oh, he's dead, thank God, he's 
dead! 

James Caesar {turning to her). It's mebbe not true, 
Hannah . . . 

"Clutie" John. It's as true as death, Hannah! I 
tell you I saw him myself, and the peelers were asking a 
wheen of questions . . . 

James Caesar (in a panic). Did they ask anything 
about me, " Clutie "? (He does not wait for an answer, 
but sitting down at the table buries his face in his hands.) 
Oh, my God, they'll be blaming me for it, and I never did 
it at all! (He gets up and goes to John Ferguson, 
plucking his arm.) John, listen to me! You know the 
sort I am, don't you? You know rightly I couldn't have 
done it myself ! I came here this morning and told you I 
was afeard to do it! Oh, my God, won't you believe me? 



94 John Ferguson 

Hannah Ferguson. Jimmy! 

James Caesar (miserably). Ay, Hannah. 

Hannah Ferguson. Don't deny it if you did it. 

James Caesar. I wouldn't deny it! (He goes to Han- 
nah.) Hannah, make your da believe me! Tell him 
you don't think I did it. You don't, do you? 

Hannah Ferguson. You say you didn't, Jimmy! 

James Caesar. But you think I did do it ! I know you 
do ! I can see it in your eyes ! 

Hannah Ferguson. I'd be proud if you had done it, 
Jimmy! 

James Caesar (miserably). Every one '11 think I did 
it, the peelers and every one ! 

[He subsides again at the table. 

" Clutie " John. It's a fearful thing to take a man's 
life. It is, in sang ! There was many a song made up in 
Ireland about the like of a thing of that sort. I wonder, 
now, could I make up a song about Henry Witherow to be 
singing on the fair-days ! 

Sarah Ferguson. Wheesht with you, " Clutie "1 

James Caesar (starting up and addressing " Clutie " 
John). What sort of questions were the peelers asking, 
" Clutie "? Did they make any mention of me, did you 
hear? 

" Clutie " John. I couldn't hear a word they were say- 
ing, Mr. Caesar, but whatever questions they were asking, 
they were putting the answers down in their wee books. 

James Caesar. If they get to know I had a grudge 
against Witherow over the head of Hannah, they'll be 
after me. They know rightly I never cared for him any 
time of my life, but then I never done any harm to him for 



John Ferguson 95 

all my talk, and if they didn't know about Hannah mebbe 
they'd never think of me. (Going to John Ferguson.) 
John, you'll never let on anything, will you? (He turns, 
without waiting for an answer, and speaks to Mrs. Fer- 
guson and Hannah.) You two won't either, will you? 
And " Clutie " John? I'm sorry, '' Clutie," for all I said 
to you. I wasn't thinking, that's why I said it. And if 
you'll not let on to the peelers about me, I'll give you 
something for yourself. 

" Clutie " John. What'll you give me, Mr. Caesar? 

James Caesar. I don't know yet. I'll give you some- 
thing. I'll give you your dinner whenever you want it, 
and I'll let you sleep in my loft. (To John Fergu- 
son.) John, make him promise not to clash on me! 
You have more influence over him nor any one. Where's 
Andrew ? We must make him promise too ! Call him in, 
Mrs. Ferguson, and bid him promise he won't tell! 

John Ferguson. We can't make any promises, Jimmy. 

James Caesar. You'll not promise! Oh, you'll never 
go and tell the peelers, will you, and have them suspecting 
me, and me didn't do it? 

John Ferguson. You must answer to the law, 
Jimmy . . . 

James Caesar. But I didn't do it, I tell you! I'll take 
my oath I didn't! Where's the Bible? I'll swear on the 
Bible! [Andrew^ Ferguson enters from the door. 

Andrew Ferguson. What ails you all ? 

John Ferguson. Henry Witherow's dead! 

[Andrew pauses for a few moments before he 
replies. When he speaks his voice is 
very strained. 



96 John Ferguson 

Andrew Ferguson. Oh! 

John Ferguson. He was found in his yard this morn- 
ing, shot! 

Andrew Ferguson. Shot! 

John Ferguson. Ay! 

Andrew Ferguson. That's . . . quare! 

James Caesar (wildly). Your da thinks it was me that 
shot him, Andrew, and so does your ma and Hannah, but 
I tell you I didn't. You know me, Andrew, don't you? 
You guessed that I wouldn't have the courage to kill With- 
erow, didn't you ? . . . 

Andrew Ferguson (turning away from him). Ay. 

James Caesar. There, you hear what your son says, 
John Ferguson! You hear him, don't you? Andrew 
doesn't believe I did it. I feel happier in my mind now. 
Mebbe the peelers'll believe me when I tell them I didn't 
do it. Sergeant Kemaghan knows me well. Him and me 
was at the same school together . . . 

Andrew Ferguson. You ought to try and get away, 
Jimmy . . . 

James Caesar. Get away ! ... Do you not believe me 
either, Andrew? Do you think I killed him? 

Andrew Ferguson. No, I don't believe you did, but 
it's likely other people '11 think it. 

John Ferguson. Jimmy, why don't you ease your 
mind? There's no boundary to the love of God, and if 
you confess your sin. He'll forgive you for it. 

James Caesar. Will I never satisfy you, John? Will 
you never believe I didn't do it ? 

John Ferguson. I wish I could believe you. 

Andrew Ferguson. If you can prove where you 
were . . . 



John Ferguson 97 

James Caesar. How can I prove it when no one seen 
me? 

[" Clutie " John goes to the door and looks 
down the " loanie." 

" Clutie " John. Here's the peelers coming! 

James Caesar (in terror). Oh, my God! 

" Clutie " John. There's the sergeant and the con- 
stables and a crowd of people running after them! 

James Caesar. They're coming for me! I know 
rightly they are! They'll take me up . . . John, for the 
love of God, help me to hide somewhere! 

John Ferguson. I can't, Jimmy, I can't. If you've 
broke the law, the law must have its reckoning. 

Andrew Ferguson. Have you changed your mind, 
then, da! You were all for love and forgiveness a while 
ago. 

John Ferguson. Ay, son, I was, and I am still, but 
Jimmy must redeem himself. A man should submit to 
punishment of his own free will, not be dragged to it. I 
know I'm not thinking clear, but I'm certain that Jimmy 
should submit to the law, whether he killed Witherow or 
not. It'll tell again' him if he runs away. 

[ The noise of the approaching crowd is heard. 

James Caesar. I must hide, I must hide! I can't face 
them! {He gazes wildly round the room.) Hannah, tell 
your da to let me hide ! 

John Ferguson. There's no use in hiding, Jimmy. 
You can't hide from yourself, can you? 

James Caesar. Hide me, Hannah, and God '11 reward 
you! 

Hannah Ferguson (appeaUngly) . Da! . . . 

John Ferguson. I can't, daughter. He must submit 



98 John Ferguson 

himself to the will of God. There's no other way for a 
man to save himself. 

[The crowd comes to the door. Sergeant 
KJERNAGHAN a fid the two constables step 
inside the kitchen. The Sergeant ad- 
vances while the constables keep back the 
murmuring crowd which surges round the 
door. 
Sergeant Kernaghan. I'm sorry to put you to any 
bother. {He sees James Caesar.) Ah, James Caesar, I 
arrest you on the suspicion of murdering Henry Witherow, 
and I warn you that anything you say will be taken down 
in writing and used as evidence against you! 

James Caesar {shrinking). I didn't do it! I tell you, 
I didn't do it! Sergeant, for the love of God don't take 
me up! You and me attended the same school to- 
gether . . . 

Sergeant Kernaghan. I'm heartsore at having to do 
it, Jimmy, but I can't help myself. 

[He beckons to the constables, who come for- 
ward and put handcuffs on Caesar's 
wrists. The crowd penetrates inio the 
room, and the Sergeant goes and pushes 
it back. 
James Caesar {more calmly). I meant to kill him. I 
admit that. ( The crowd tosses this admission from lip to 
lip.) But I didn't do it. If I should never speak again, 
that's the God's truth! I'm not sorry he's dead, but it 
wasn't me that killed him. 
Sergeant Kernaghan. Come along, now. 
James Caesar. Good-bye to you all! 



John Ferguson 99 

John Ferguson. God give you peace, Jimmy ! 
Hannah Ferguson (going to Caesar and touching his 
arm. ) Good-bye, Jimmy ! 

James Caesar. I wish for your sake I had killed him, 
I'd be a happier man nor I am. 

Sergeant Kernaghan. I must ask you to come along 
now. (To the constables.) Just clear the crowd away 
from the door! 

[The constables push the people away from 
the door, and then they and the Sergeant 
close about Jimmy Caesar and take him 
away. The crowd surges round them and 
slowly disappears, murmuring loudly as 
it goes. Hannah closes the door behind 
them and then goes and sits down on the 
sofa beside her mother, who is weeping. 
There is silence for a moment. 
John Ferguson. God knows His own ways best ! 

[Andrew stands staring in front of him. 
Then he goes to the door and opens it, 
and stands gazing down the " loanie " 
after the retreating crowd. " Clutie " 
John sits down on the seat in the fire- 
place and takes out his whistle. He be- 
gins to play " WilUe Reilly and his Col- 
leen Bawn." 
Andrew Ferguson (fiercely). Quit that damned whis- 
tle, will you ? 

[" Clutie " John looks up at him quest'ion- 
ingly, and then puts the whistle away. 
Andrew stands still for a moment longer. 



100 John Ferguson 

Then he closes the door and walks to- 
wards the fire and holds his hands in 
front of the blaze. 

Andrew Ferguson. It's colder the day nor it was yes- 
terday ! 

John Ferguson. Ay, son! 



ACT IV 

It is the late afternoon of a day a fortnight later. John 
Ferguson, who has become feebler in the interval, 
but at the same time more deeply religious, is sitting 
in the attitude in which he was seen at the beginning 
of the play. His chair is drawn up to the fire, and he 
has his Bible open in his hands. He is reading the 
eighteenth chapter of the second book of Samuel. It 
is clear from his look of fragility that he is dying. 
Mrs. Ferguson is standing at the door, looking 
down the " loanie." 

John Ferguson (reading aloud). " And the king said, 
Is the young man Absalom safe? And Ahimaaz an- 
swered, When Joab sent the king's servant, and me thy 
servant, I saw a great tumult, but I knew not what it was. 
And the king said unto him, Turn aside and Stand there. 
And he turned aside and stood still. And, behold, Cushi 
came; and Cushi said. Tidings, my lord, the king: for the 
Lord hath avenged thee this day of all them that rose up 
against thee. And the king said unto Cushi, Is the young 
man Absalom safe ? . . ." 

Sarah Ferguson. Here's Hannah now, John! She's 
just turned the corner of the " loanie." 

John Ferguson (looking up from the Bible). Ay, 
wife, it'll be about her time. 

Sarah Ferguson (entering the kitchen and setting a 

lOI 



102 John Ferguson 

kettle on the fire). I don't know how she can bear to go 
and see Jimmy the way she does when she minds every- 
thing. If it hadn't been for her changing her mind, With- 
erow would be living now ! 

John Ferguson (putting the Bible down on the table 
beside him, and turning to his wife). You must never say 
the like of that to her, Sarah! The girl couldn't see in 
front of her. No one could. 

Sarah Ferguson. She would have nothing to do with 
him before he killed Witherow, and now she goes to see 
him whenever they'll let her in the jail! You would near 
think she was in love with him over the head of the crime, 
though I don't believe she is myself for all she visits him. 
(She sits down on the sofa and takes up some darning on 
which she begins to work.) There's been a quare change 
in her this last fortnight ! She's quieter on it, and not so 
headstrong and set on herself as she used to be. Indeed, 
sometimes I near think she's in a decline. 

John Ferguson (sighing as he speaks). Ay, she's 
been through a mort of sorrow, that girl! She's young to 
be feeling the weight of the world already. 

Sarah Ferguson. Ay, indeed! And there's Andrew 
hasn't a word to say to any one since it happened. Some- 
times I try to talk to him about Jimmy, hut sure I might as 
well hold my tongue. All I can get out of him is " Ay, 
ma! " or " No," or mebbe he'll just nod his head. (She 
sighs.) Ah, dear, our children seem to be slipping away 
from us, John! 

John Ferguson. Mebbe they're going past us, Sarah. 
It's natural, that! You and your children can't keep pace 
with each other all your life. They must get ahead of you 
some time. It hurts you when you feel them outstripping 



John Ferguson 103 

you, but it's the way God works, and sure He doesn't leave 
you without a consolation of some sort. God never hits 
you with both hands at the one time, Sarah, and if we're 
losing our children, we're finding ourselves. You and 
me's drawing closer to one another, woman! 

[He holds out his hand to her. 
Sarah Ferguson (taking his hand). Ay, John, we are. 
We were always good comrades since ever we were married, 
you and me, for all the trouble we've had. 
John Ferguson. Ay, wife, ay ! 

[He takes up the Bible again and reads it to 
himself. As he does so, Hannah enters 
the kitchen. Her manner is more re- 
strained than it was when the play began, 
and she seems to be older in manner. 
Her actions appear to be independent of 
her thoughts. 
Sarah Ferguson. You're back again, Hannah? 
Hannah Ferguson. Ay, ma ! 

[She takes off her outdoor garments and lays 
them aside. 
John Ferguson. Well, Hannah, how is Jimmy the 
day? 

Hannah Ferguson. He seemed quieter in his mind, 
da. 

John Ferguson. Has he confessed the truth yet ? 
Hannah Ferguson. No. I didn't like to mention it to 
him, and he didn't say anything to me. But I know he 
hasn't confessed, because I went to Mulhem, the solicitor, 
afterwards, and he told me Jimmy still makes out that he 
didn't do it. 

[She comes and sits at the table, facing the audience. 



104 John Ferguson 

John Ferguson. I wish he'd unburden his mind. It's 
no good him keeping it up like that. What does Mulhem 
say about it? 

Hannah Ferguson. He doesn't know what to think. 
He says that when he's by himself he feels sure Jimmy did 
it, but when he's with Jimmy he begins to be doubtful. 

John Ferguson. Doubtful. 

Hannah Ferguson. Ay. There's something about the 
way Jimmy denies it that near makes you believe him. 
All the same, Mulhem thinks he did it, and he says that if 
he was to confess, it would be better for him. There are 
extenuating circumstances . . . 

John Ferguson. Nothing can extenuate a murder, 
Hanah ! God's Word is clear. " But I say unto you 
which hear, Love your enemies, do good to them that hate 
you. Bless them that curse you, and pray for them that 
despitefully use you. And unto him that smiteth thee on 
the one cheek offer also the other; and him that taketh 
away thy cloke forbid him not to take thy coat also." 
Them words is plain enough. You can't twist them out 
of their meaning. There can be no excuse, Hannah, for a 
bad deed : there can only be repentance and forgiveness. 

Hannah Ferguson. We all have our natures, da ! 

John Ferguson. Ay, daughter, we have, but there's 
the one duty for the whole of us. 

Hannah Ferguson. I met John Comber on the road, 
and he's set on getting up a petition for Jimmy. He says 
the judge is sure to sentence him to death . . . 

Sarah Ferguson. God save us ! 

Hannah Ferguson. . . . and so we'd better be pre- 
pared to do all that's needful. 

Sarah Ferguson. Ah, sure, they'll never hang him 



John Ferguson 105 

when they know all the facts. It wouldn't be honest or 
fair, and there's many says Witherow should have been 
shot long ago. They'll mebbe give Jimmy penal servitude 
for life. 

Hannah Ferguson. That's worse nor hanging. They 
take your life, but they don't give you death. 

Sarah Ferguson (sighing). Ah, I daresay you're 
right! Dear knows, when you think of what they do to 
you, you'd wonder anybody ever killed a person at all. 

[Sam Mawhinney, the postman, comes to 
the door. 

Sam Mawhinney. I'm not empty-handed this time, 
Mrs. Ferguson. I've a letter for you the day. 

Sarah Ferguson. A letter? 

Sam Mawhinney. Ay, from America. The mail's in 
the day ! 

Sarah Ferguson (going to him and taking the letter 
from him). A letter from America! 

Sam Mawhinney. Ay ! Don't you mind the last time 
the mail come in you were expecting a letter from America, 
and you were quare and cut up because you didn't get it? 
I declare to my goodness it was the very day Witherow 
was shot. A fortnight the day! I never thought of that 
now! 

Sarah Ferguson (absently). Thank you, Sam! 

Sam Mawhinney. Ah, not at all. I only hope it's 
good news for you. Are you keeping your health, Mr. 
Ferguson ? 

John Ferguson. I'm bravely, thank you, Sam! 

Sam Mawhinney. That's right. Good-evening to 
you, Hannah! Well, I must be going. Good-night to 
you all ! 



io6 John Ferguson 

Sarah Ferguson. Good-night to you, Sam! 

[Sam Mawhinney goes off. 
Sarah Ferguson (standing in the centre of the kitchen 
gazing vacantly at the letter). It's from Andrew, John I 
Will I open it? 

John Ferguson. Ay ! 

[She opens the envelope and takes out the 
letter and an order for money which are 
inside. 
Sarah Ferguson. Oh, he's sent the money to pay the 
mortgage ! 

[She holds the order in her fingers and gazes 
stupidly at it for a few moments. They 
are all silent for a while. 
Hannah Ferguson {bitterly). God's late, da! 
John Ferguson {feeling the blow to his faith). Don't, 
daughter, don't. 

Hannah Ferguson {getting up and going to the win- 
dow). Oh, it's wicked, it's wicked! 

Sarah Ferguson. If it had only come by the last mail ! 
John Ferguson. There must be some meaning in it. 
There must be! God doesn't make mistakes. 

Sarah Ferguson. Will I read the letter to you, John ? 
John Ferguson. Ay! Ay, do! 
Sarah Ferguson {sitting down at the table). There's 
not much in it. {She peers at the letter.) I can't under- 
stand his writing without my specs. ! 

Hannah Ferguson {coming to her and taking the let- 
ter from her). I'll read it, ma! {She, too, sits down at 
the table, and she reads the letter aloud.) " Dear Brother, 
I received your letter safe, and am sorry to hear about 



John Ferguson 107 

your trouble, but am glad to see that you are better in your- 
self and that Sarah and Andrew and Hannah are keeping 
their health as I am, too, thank God. It is a great deal of 
money to send, and I have had a lot of bother to raise it, 
but I could not let the farm go out of the family without 
making an effort, so I send the money to you with this let- 
ter. If I am well-spared I will mebbe come home and see 
you all. I am getting tired of America. It is no place 
for an old man that wasn't born here. Remember me to 
all my friends and acquaintances, and with my best love 
and respect to all at home, I am, your affectionate brother, 
Andrew. P.S. — Write soon." (She turns the letter 
over.) There's a piece on the other side. " P.S. — I am 
sorry I missed the mail yesterday. I made a mistake in 
the day, but I daresay this will reach you in time. — An- 
drew." 

[She puts the letter down. They sit in si- 
lence. Then Hannah begins to laugh 
hysterically. 

Hannah Ferguson. Isn't it quare and funny, da? 
Isn't it funny? . . . 

Sarah Ferguson (going to her and shaking her). 
Hannah, Hannah, for dear sake, control yourself! 

Hannah Ferguson (lapsing from laughter to tears). 
Where's the right in it, da? Where's the right in it? It's 
not just ! It's not fair ! 

Sarah Ferguson. Ah, quit, Hannah! 

Hannah Ferguson. There would have been none of 
this if he hadn't forgotten the right day, none of it . . . 
Oh, da, da! [Andrew Ferguson enters. 

Andrew Ferguson. Is anything the matter? 



io8 John Ferguson 

Hannah Ferguson. No, no, Andrew! Nothing's the 
matter! Nothing! Your uncle Andrew forgot the mail- 
day, that's all! . . . 

Andrew Ferguson {to his father) . What's up, da? 

John Ferguson (feebly). It's . . . it's your uncle . . . 

[He becomes incoherent. 

Sarah Ferguson. Your uncle Andrew's sent the money 
to pay the mortgage, son. He forgot tlie mail-day, and 
just missed it. If he hadn't forgot, the money would have 
been here before . . . before Jimmy killed Witherow! 

Hannah Ferguson. Ay ! Ay ! Before — before Jimmy 
killed Witherow! And then my da says it was all 
planned! . . . 

Andrew Ferguson {with a queer wrinkled smile on his 
face, as he takes up the letter and fingers it) . Huh ! Un- 
cle Andrew never had a good memory, had he? {No one 
speaks.) W^ell, the farm's safe anyway. 

Hannah Ferguson. Ay, the farm's safe! 

John Ferguson. We can't understand everything. It's 
no good trying to puzzle it all out. We must just have 
faith . . . that's all ! Just have faith ! 

Hannah Ferguson. One man's dead and another's in 
jail in danger of his life because my uncle Andrew forgot 
the mail-day. 

Andrew Ferguson. It's . . . it's a quare set-out ! 

John Ferguson. Ay! {Sighing heavily.) Ay! 

Andrew Ferguson {hysterically). Ha! Ha, ha! Ha, 
ha, ha! . . . 

John Ferguson. Andrew, Andrew, son, don't you give 
way, too! Set an example to your sister of self-control! 

Andrew Ferguson {recovering himself). Ay! Ay, 
da, I will. [He sits down. 



John Ferguson 109 

Sarah Ferguson. Hannah's just come back from see- 
ing Jimmy, Andrew! 

Andrew Ferguson. Oh! Oh! Oh, yes, I remember, 
she was going to see him the day, wasn't she? (His voice 
is very hard and strained.) What was he like, Hannah? 

[Hannah does not answer. 

Sarah Ferguson. She says he was quieter in his 
mind . . . 

Andrew Ferguson. That's good. It's good to be quiet 
in your mind ! It's well for him. 

John Ferguson. It's not well for him, Andrew. He 
still denies that he killed Witherow . . . 

Andrew Ferguson. Mebbe he didn't kill him, da ! 

John Ferguson. I would like to believe that, but I 
can't. 

Andrew Ferguson. He ought to have killed him. 
(More emphatically.) He ought to have killed him . . . 
but he didn't. 

John Ferguson. Ah, son, what's the good of talking 
that way. You and Hannah's overstrung, and you hardly 
know what you're saying or doing, the pair of you. I've 
noticed how quiet you've been lately, and I believe you've 
been brooding over Jimmy till now you can't think clearly 
about him. 

Andrew Ferguson. He didn't kill Witherow, da. He 
hadn't the pluck to kill him. It was me that done it! 

Sarah Ferguson (starting up). You! 

John Ferguson (quietly). Sit down, Sarah! The 
lad's beside himself. (Mrs. Ferguson resumes her seat.) 
Andrew, you must not give way to your fancies like that! 
(He rises and faces him.) Come to bed, son, and rest 
yourself. You look tired and exhausted. 



no John Ferguson 

[He takes hold of Andrew's arm and tries to 
lead him to the stairs. 
Andrew Ferguson {eluding his father's grasp). No, 
da, I'm not away in the mind, as you think. I know 
rightly what I'm saying. It was me that killed Witherow! 
[Now that he has confessed his deed his voice 
becomes quite calm. 
John Ferguson. You're demented, son! 
Ajjdrew Ferguson. No, da, I'm not. I killed him. 
With that gun there. 

[He points to the gun over the mantel-shelf. 
Sarah Ferguson (in terrible alarm). Son-a-dear, do 
you know what you're saying ? 

Andrew Ferguson. I know rightly, ma. 
Sarah Ferguson. It's not true, it's not true. 

[John Ferguson has been standing gaping at 
his son as if he cannot understand what 
he is saying. Then, as comprehension 
comes to him, he goes to Andrew and 
grips him by the shoulder. 
John Ferguson (almost harshly). Andrew! 
Andrew Ferguson (quietly). Ay, da! 
John Ferguson. Do you mean ... do you mean you 
killed Witherow? 

Andrew Ferguson. I do, da! 

John Ferguson (releasing his grip and staggering 
back a little). Oh, my God, my God! 

Sarah Ferguson. It's not true, John, it's not true. 
The poor lad's mind is turned with trouble. 

Andrew Ferguson. It is true. I knew that Jimmy 
wouldn't kill him, so I made up my mind I'd kill him 
myself . . . 



John Ferguson iii 

John Ferguson (wildly). Quit, quit, quit! I must 
think ... I must think! 

[He goes back to his chair and sinks into it. 
As he does so, his hand touches his Bible. 
He pushes it away from him. 

Hannah Ferguson (going to her brother and putting 
her arms about him). Andrew, dear! 

Andrew Ferguson. I'm not sorry I killed him, Han- 
nah! 

Hannah Ferguson. No, Andrew, I know you're not. 

Andrew Ferguson. But I'm ashamed to think I let 
Jimmy bear the blame for it. That's as bad as him hid- 
ing under the whin-bush when he should have been killing 
Witherow himself. It's been on my mind ever since the 
peelers took him up. That's the only thing that disturbs 
me. I lie awake at night, and I say to myself, " You 
took Jimmy's place of your own free will, but you made 
him take your place against his will ! " Mind you, I felt 
no more remorse when I killed Witherow nor a terrier feels 
when it kills a rat. 

Hannah Ferguson. No, Andrew, why would you ? 

Andrew Ferguson. I went up to his farm, and when I 
got there the dog begun to bark, and Witherow come to the 
door. "Is that you, Jimmy Caesar?" he shouted. 
" Have you come to kill me? " He let a big coarse laugh 
out of him when he said that, and I could feel my heart 
jumping mad inside me. " It's not Jimmy Caesar! " I 
shouted back at him; " it's me! " I could see him strain- 
ing to look at me, and his features was puzzled. Then I 
put my gun up to my shoulder, and I took aim at him. 
"Away home out of that!" he shouted. And then I 
pulled the trigger, and he let a yell out of him and fell in 



112 John Ferguson 

a lump on the ground. The dog was barking and strain- 
ing at its chain . . . 

Hannah Ferguson. Poor beast! 
Andrew Ferguson. But I didn't mind that. I 
shouted at it to lie down, and then I come straight home. 
I mind when I was half-way home, I said to myself, 
** Mebbe you've not killed him," and I was near turning 
back to make sure. But I just didn't . . . There was 
no one in the kitchen when I come in, and I put the gun 
back where I found it, and no one knew . . . except me. 
It never entered no one's mind that it was me killed him. 
I was safe enough, and at first I didn't care whether 
Jimmy got hung or not. I said to myself it would serve 
him right if he was hung for being a collie. And then I 
tried to comfort myself by saying he wouldn't be hung at 
all when the people knew the way he'd been provoked. 
But it wasn't any good. I got more and more ashamed, 
and I couldn't sit still in the house with you all, and my 
da saying Jimmy ought to confess. I couldn't rest no- 
where. The only consolation I had was to go into the 
fields and listen to " Clutie " playing his whistle. He 
knew it was me done it for all he didn't say anything . . . 
[John Ferguson rouses himself from the 
lethargy into which he sank when he 
heard his son's confession. He gets up 
from his chair and takes hold of Andrew 
as if he were protecting him from some 
danger. 
John Ferguson. We must hide him somewhere. 
That's what we must do. We'll send you to America, 
Andrew, to live with your uncle. Ay, ay! That's what 
the money was for! You may be certain sure that was 



John Ferguson 113 

what it come for! You'll be safe when you're out of the 
country, son ! No one '11 harm you in America ! ( To his 
wife.) Stir yourself, Sarah, woman, stir yourself! 
We've no time to lose. The peelers might hear it and 
come any minute. {To Andrew.) Come on, son, and 
get ready ! You must quit the place the night . . . 

Andrew Ferguson. No, da . . . 

John Ferguson. Ay, son, you must! You can go up 
to Belfast by the next train, and we'll send the money to 
you there. You'd better change your name, son! . . . 
{He puts his hands to his head as if he were dazed.) I'm 
all moidhered! Sarah, Sarah, woman! 

Sarah Ferguson. Ay, John? 

John Ferguson. We must hide him the night. Do 
you understand me? Mebbe some one heard him telling 
us about it. You never know who's listening, and the 
world's full of clash-bags! . . . 

Andrew Ferguson. I can't go, da, and leave Jimmy in 
the wrong. 

John Ferguson. Yes, yes, son! That'll be all 
right! We'll think about Jimmy afterwards. Come and 
get ready now, son! 

[He tries to lead Andrew to the staircase, hut 
Andrew resists him. 

Sarah Ferguson. Go with your da, son, and get ready! 

Andrew Ferguson {freeing himself from them and sit- 
ting down again). I must do right by Jimmy for my peace' 
sake. 

John Ferguson. No, son, you must save yourself first. 

Andrew Ferguson. You're asking me to do what you 
wouldn't let Jimmy do for all he begged you! 

John Ferguson {fiercely). You're my son, Andrew, 



114 John Ferguson 

and Jimmy^s not! He always meant to kill Witherow. 
Many's a time you all heard him say he would do it! 
Didn't you? You mocked him yourselves over the head 
of it. He killed the man many's a while in his mind, and 
the Bible says if you think a sin you commit a sin. (He 
takes hold of Andrew again.) Come away, son! Han- 
nah, persuade him . . . 

Hannah Ferguson. I can't, da. Andrew knows 
what's best for himself. 

Sarah Ferguson. Do you want your brother hanged, 
Hannah? Is that what you want? 

Hannah Ferguson. What peace will Andrew have if 
Jimmy suffers for him ? 

Andrew Ferguson. That's what I say to myself 
many's a time, Hannah ! You see that yourself, da, don't 
you? 

John Ferguson (feebly going to his chair). I've suf- 
fered enough! I've suffered enough, Andrew! It's not just 
or right to put more trouble on me now. I've lost my 
health . . . and then there was the mortgage, and . . . 
Hannah . . . and Jimmy . . . and now! . . . Oh, I've 
bore enough, and it's not fair to ask me to bear any more. 

Hannah Ferguson. We all have to make our own 
peace, da. We can't have it made for us. You used al- 
ways to say that. 

Andrew Ferguson. Hannah's right, da. There'll be 
no content for me till I content myself. (He rises.) I'll 
go down now to the barracks and tell the sergeant. 

John Ferguson (turning to him and speaking brok- 
enly). Son, son! . . . 

Sarah Ferguson. I'll not have him made suffer ! (Go- 



John Ferguson 115 

ing to Andrew and holding him tightly.) I'll not let 
you go, Andrew, I'll not let you go! 

Andrew Ferguson. I must go, ma, for my peace' sake. 
Every minute that Jimmy's locked in jail is a burden on 
my mind. I've mocked the man times and times for a 
coward, though he couldn't help his nature, but I'm worse 
nor him a hundred times. 

Sarah Ferguson. Be wheesht with you, son, be 
wheesht ! 

Andrew Ferguson. Eating the heart out of me, it is. 
Gnawing and gnawing! ... I never get the picture of 
Jimmy out of my mind ! I run for miles this morning to 
try and tire myself out so's I could sleep and rest myself, 
but I can't get content nohow. That's the way of it, ma. 
You understand me, da, don't you ? 

John Ferguson. Ay, son, I understand you. 

Sarah Ferguson. You can go to America, Andrew, the 
way your da said you could, and when you're safe you can 
send home a confession to save Jimmy. That would do, 
wouldn't it ? 

John Ferguson (eagerly clutching at the straw). Ay, 
ay, that would do, Andrew. 

Sarah Ferguson. Or we could go ourselves and tell the 
peelers when you were safely out of it. 

Hannah Ferguson. They might think it was a made- 
up thing . . . 

Sarah Ferguson (rounding on her). Quit, you! It 
doesn't become you, Hannah, to be telling your brother 
what to do when it's your fault he's in the trouble he is. 

Hannah Ferguson. Ma, ma, don't say it . . . 

Sarah Ferguson. Ay, you can cry well enough, but 



ii6 John Ferguson 

that'll not save you from the blame. If you'd taken 
Jimmy at the start . . . 

John Ferguson. Sarah, woman, don't . . . don't talk 
to her that way ! 

Sarah Ferguson. I will talk to her. It was her that 
killed Witherow, and no one else. It's her that ought to 
be hanged . . . 

Andrew Ferguson (standing up and shouting at his 
mother). Ma! 

Sarah Ferguson (collapsing). Am I to see my own 
son sent to the gallows ? Am I to sit still and let you hang 
him between you? John, are you going to let Hannah 
drive Andrew to the jail? . . . 

Andrev^ Ferguson. She's not driving me, ma. No 
one could. 

Sarah Ferguson (ignoring her son). John, will you be 
content to let her . . . 

John Ferguson (patiently). I'm trying to discover 
God's will, Sarah. 

Sarah Ferguson (passionately). I don't want God's 
will! I want my son! It's nothing to me what he done 

— he's my son ! I don't care if he killed a hundred men 

— he's my son! I'll not let him go to the jail. I'll take 
him away myself to some place where he'll be safe. (She 
goes over to Andrew.) Get ready, Andrew, and we'll go 
away together the night. Your da wanted you to go a 
minute since. (She tries to draw him away from his seat.) 
Come with me, son, and don't be heeding Hannah. 

Andrew Ferguson (resisting her). Don't, ma. (He 
turns to his father.) Da! 

John Ferguson. I can't advise you, son. Don't ask 
me. I was weak a minute ago. I forgot God's will. 



John Ferguson 117 

Mebbe you're right, son . . . but don't ask me to advise 
you. I'm getting old, and I haven't the strength of mind I 
had one time . . . 

Sarah Ferguson. You'll never let him go and give 
himself up, will you? Oh, have you no nature at all, none 
of you? I thought you took pride in him, John! . . . 

John Ferguson. I did take pride in him, but I take no 
pride in anything now. I must have sinned bitterly 
against God to be punished this way. It must have been 
something I done that's brought calamity on us. I'd be 
willing to pay whatever price was demanded of me . . . 
but Andrew! . . . 

Andrev^ Ferguson. Da, a man must clean himself 
mustn't he? 

John Ferguson. Ay. Ay, son ! 

Andrew Ferguson. It's no good other people doing 
things for him. He must do them himself. 

John Ferguson. Yes, yes. 

Andrew Ferguson. And it's no good any one doing 
anything for me. I must do it myself, da. Jimmy can't 
pay for me. He can only pay for himself. 

Sarah Ferguson. I won't let you go, son ! . . . 

Andrew Ferguson. If they were to hang Jimmy, ma, 
or to keep him in jail for the rest of his life, do you think 
would I be happy? 

Sarah Ferguson. Ah, but you could forget, son, in a 
new place. We'd go where no one knew anything about 
us and begin all over again. 

Andrew Ferguson. We*d know, ma. Oh, don't you 
mind what my da said to Jimmy: " You can't hide from 
yourself " ? There's nothing truer nor that. 

Sarah Ferguson (beating her breast). Oh, will no one 



Ii8 John Ferguson 

help me to keep my son safe? Will you all take him 
from me? [Andrew goes to her and kisses her hair. 

Andrew Ferguson. It's best this way, ma. You'll see 
that yourself some day. 

[Mrs. Ferguson clutches him to her. 
Sarah Ferguson. Don't leave me, son. 
Andrew Ferguson. I must, ma, for my peace' sake! 
{He kisses her and then releases himself from her embrace. 
She buries her face on the table and sobs without re- 
straint.) Will you come to the barracks with me, da? 

[John Ferguson looks up piteously at his 
son. His will fails him, and he puts out 
his hands in supplication to Andrew, 
and then, recovering himself, draws them 
in again. 
John Ferguson. Don't ask me, son ; I couldn't bear it. 
Andrew Ferguson. It'll be lonely going there by my- 
self. Will you come, Hannah ? 

Hannah Ferguson {quietly). Ay, Andrew. 
Andrew Ferguson. Thank you, Hannah. 

[He puts on his coat and cap. Hannah 
picks up the garments which she threw 
aside when she first came into the 
kitchen, and puts them on. There is si- 
lence, save for Mrs. Ferguson's sobs, 
while they do so. 
Andrew Ferguson. Good-night, da! 
John Ferguson {without looking up). Good-night, 
Andrew ! 

[Andrew bends down to kiss his father, who 
draws him close to him. 
John Ferguson {brokenly). My son, my son! 



John Ferguson 119 

Andrew Ferguson chokingly). Da! 

[He releases himself and goes to his mother. 
Andrew Ferguson. Good-night, ma! 
Sarah Ferguson (starting up and clinging to him). 
No, no, Andrew, no! 

Andrew Ferguson (firmly). Grood-night, ma! 

[He kisses her, and then gently releases him- 
self from her clasp and puts her back 
into her chair. 
Andrew Ferguson (to his father). I think John 
Luke '11 be able to take care of the farm for a day or two, 
but I wouldn't trust him longer, da. He's bone idle, that 
man, and you'd better get some one else as soon as you can. 
If you were to get some one that understood management, 
he would do rightly as a labourer if he was watched well. 
Arthur Caimduff heard of a suitable person a while ago 
that might do. 

John Ferguson. Ay, son, ay. 

Andrew Ferguson. And Kerr, the butcher, '11 give you 
a good price for the bullock. (To Hannah.) Are you 
ready, Hannah? 

Hannah Ferguson. Ay, Andrew! 
Andrew Ferguson (vaguely). Well, I'll bid you all 
good-night. 

John Ferguson. Good-night, son. 
Andrew Ferguson. I'll . . . I'll mebbe see you again 
. . . some day! 

[He pauses for a moment, hut his father does 
not reply. Hannah opens the door and 
Andrew goes out. 
Andrew Ferguson (in the doorway). The air's turned 
cold. 



120 John Ferguson 

Hannah Ferguson (to her father). I'll be back as 
soon as I can, da! 

[She goes out, closing the door behind her. 
The sound rouses Mrs. Ferguson, who 
sits up and gazes dazedly about her. 
Sarah Ferguson. Where are they ? They're not gone? 
John Ferguson. Ay, they've gone. Sit down, wife. 
Sarah Ferguson. Oh, why did you let them go? I 
can't let him go, John, I can't let him go! 

John Ferguson. You must, Sarah. God has some 
purpose with us, and there's no use in holding out against 
God, for He knows, and we don't. 

Sarah Ferguson. I won't let him go! {She goes to 
the door and opens it.) I'll bring him back! 

[She goes out, shouting "Andrew! Andrew!!'* 
and leaves the door open. John Fer- 
guson sits brooding before the fire for a 
few moments. Then he gets up, moving 
feebly, and goes across the room and shuts 
the door. When he has done so he 
stands for a moment or two gazing help- 
lessly about the room. Then he goes 
back to his seat. As he sits down, his 
hand comes in contact with the open 
Bible. Almost mechanically he picks it 
up and begins to read where he left off 
when the Act began. His lips move as 
he reads to himself. Then he slowly 
reads aloud. 
John Ferguson. " And the king said unto Cushi, Is 
the young man Absalom safe? ..." 



John Ferguson 121 

[ The door opens, and Mrs. Ferguson, weep- 
ing, enters. 

Sarah Ferguson. They've gone ! They wouldn't come 
back! It's not right to be sending him away like that! 
He's my only son, and I'm an old woman. You had no 
call to be sending him away. 

John Ferguson. Isn't he the only son I have too? Is 
it any easier for a father to give up his son nor it is for a 
mother? Has a man no pride in his child, and no grief 
when it dies or does wrong? Is it women only that can 
feel hurt? Woman, woman, your sorrow is no more nor 
mine, and mine is no more nor yours. We're just stricken 
together. Come here, Sarah! {She comes to him). Sit 
down, woman, here by the side of me, and give me a hold 
of your hand. {She sits down on the stool beside him.) 
We've been married a long while, Sarah, and shared our 
good fortune and our bad. We've had our pride and our 
humiliation. God's been good to us and He's been bitter 
hard. But whatever it was we've bore it together, haven't 
we? 

Sarah Ferguson. Ay, John. 

John Ferguson. And we'll bear this together too, 
woman, won't we? 

Sarah Ferguson. It's a hard thing for any one to bear. 
Your own son to be taken from you . . . 

John Ferguson. Ay, wife, it is, but we must just bear 
it, for God knows better nor we do what's right to be done. 
{He takes up the Bible again.) Listen to God's Word, 
Sarah, and that'll strengthen you. {He continues his 
reading.) " And the king said unto Cushi, Is the young 
man Absalom safe? And Cushi answered, The enemies 



122 John Ferguson 

of ray lord the king, and all that rise against thee to do 
thee hurt, be as that young man is. And the king was 
much moved, and went up to the chamber over the gate, 
and wept: and as he went (his voice begins to break as he 
reads the following passages), thus he said, O my son 
Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would God I had 
died for thee, O Absalom, my son ... my son." 

[His voice ends in a sob. The Bible falls 
from his hands on to his lap. He sits 
staring into the fire. There is a low 
moan from his wife. 



THE END 



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